


Obscenely-Proportioned Pheromosa had Rights?

by Tas_tan



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: /ss/, Bukkake, Choking, Cum Inflation, Excessive Semen, F/M, Facial, MILF, Massive Breasts, Raceplay, Shota, Stomach Deformation, Verbal Abuse, abnormal internal biology, musk, nose bleeds, ntr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:33:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 21,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24973894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tas_tan/pseuds/Tas_tan
Summary: A matured Pheromosa SEPH by the name of Izelia manages her first 'Crisis of Maturity' by engaging in a wildly inappropriate and degenerate relationship with a 7 year old human she meets through a dating application.  Over the course of several months, the management of her 'happy and fulfilling' family life alongside the hours* (i.e days) that she wishes to spend engaged in brutal, misogynistic sex with him becomes increasingly difficult.Soon, she will have to make a choice: her instincts as a SEPH, or the family that she claims to love and cherish above all else...Assuming that the boy she has come to love does not make this choice for her.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 39





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the sequel to 'Shortstack Kirilia Have Rights?'. There are some wack/autistic thematic elements that I defined in that story that are required to make sense of the content here. If you skin the first few pages of each chapter, you'll find answers for almost all the questions you're looking for.

**THE ADVENT OF AWARENESS**

For all of their combined successes, the unprecedented scientific, political, and sociological collaboration that facilitated the integration of SEPH ( Sentient and Humanoid Pokémon ) into modern human society failed to account for a fact that, upon discovery, threatened to invalidate decades of suffering and reconciliation endured between the species.

As it turned out, humans and SEPH were fundamentally designed for one another. Roughly a decade after their introduction, it became apparent that the vaccinations developed to numb the children of the future to this reality were only effective enough to mitigate the extent to which this ‘design’ was felt. Whether as a result of maturation of simple curiosity, the passage of time eventually rendered children born into the new world as disquietingly ‘aware’ of one another.

Though ground-breaking, the first reported instance of this awareness did not fit the definition of a ‘regressive’ interspecies interaction. A male human and a female SEPH of relative sexual maturity (ages and names withheld) were discovered by the parents kissing with one another during a period of time wherein their vaccinations ought to have discouraged such behavior. Following medical examinations and debriefing by psychological professionals, their interest in one another was determined to be the result of natural sexual attraction. The male did not presume ownership of the female as a consequence of her body structure and birth, and the female did not devalue herself as a means to be used by male humans. They simply loved one another—inexplicably, yet completely.

If catastrophic sociologically, medical experts were not especially shocked by these findings. The idea that centuries of selective breeding and human interaction might be undone by childhood vaccinations was one far too idealistic to be realized through mere science. The years of research time that they earned from its development and availment was the ‘best case scenario’ for the venture—a proof of concept that guaranteed some amount of comfort for the children of both species as they moved into adolescence. 

Overall, the exposure of the rushed, insufficient nature of the vaccines was considered by worldwide scientific communities as a godsend. With this, governments worldwide were forced to resume their funding of research into medical ‘solvents’ capable of dissolving the horrid adhesive that joined the species at the hip, thereby ensuring that vital work would remain available to those within their professions for another lifetime.

Unbeknownst to them, the resumption of medical research on the issue was only the tip of a broad iceberg of change hurriedly tabled throughout the world. Confronted with a phenomenon too natural to be stopped by medicine and, at a glance, largely harmless to those that it concerned, political leaders enlisted social scientists informed as to the current state of human-SEPH relations to develop a more long-term ‘stop-gap’ for the progressive reversion of society.

Unlike their ancestors, these individuals chose facilitation over mitigation. As the attraction between humans and SEPH was (at the time) impossible to stop, promoting it in a measured and healthy manner seemed to them as the only way to properly manage the decades to come. Like this, the psychology of the species could be used to naturalize their perceptions of one another (i.e. using the presentation of genuine romance between the species to subvert the user/used dynamic between male humans and female SEPH), and the ineffectiveness of the vaccines mandated worldwide could be swept under the rug as the first step in a much broader, more inclusive plan. Provided humanity accepted the proposition, most of the ‘work’ concerning this would be done for them as well.

Perhaps as a result of the species’ innate closeness (or more likely as a result of the advent itself), the sweeping declarations made concerning the ‘normalization’ of human-SEPH relations were largely accepted by the general public. As it turned out, the adolescents responsible for substantiating the phenomenon were not the first to experience it, but rather the first to be  _ caught  _ experiencing it. Almost overnight, the smiling, open-armed stance taken by administrations worldwide resulted in the appearance of countless age-appropriate human-SEPH couples. Without fear of scorn from society or some sort of consequence for feelings that they deemed to be natural, the children of the future proved all-too-happy to pursue one another without regard for species or circumstance.

Throughout the decades that followed, the predictions made by those that tabled the normalization came true one after another. Following the advent’s acceptance as the new ‘norm’, several fractions of the private sector jumped at their first opportunity to profit from it. From the integration of SEPH couples into marketing campaigns to the dissemination of information concerning the biology of both human and SEPH (with relation to one another), no stone was unturned in their efforts to make this new world just as profitable as the one before it had been.

“Poke FindMe”—a dating application specifically designed to facilitate the creation of human-SEPH couples—presently exists as the most profitable and ‘well-renowned’ of these economic ventures. Touted as a spinoff to a pre-existing smartphone application that catered specifically to human-human and SEPH-SEPH relationships, its introduction into the growing market of social applications came at a point in time wherein nothing else like it existed. Consequentially, its user base enjoyed exponential growth within its first year of availability—growth that in turn facilitated improvements in the application itself. By the time rival companies developed products that might compete with it, the advertisement revenue accrued from its usage placed its holding company so far ahead of its competitors that ‘competition’ could no longer be used to describe their relationship.

Of course, successes aside, Poke Find-Me is not without its issues. As a result of its being the most prominent application of its kind, it is also the most poorly ‘policed’ in its genre. Though numerous restrictions on age and profile content exist to keep its userbase from descending into illegality or degeneracy, circumventing these restrictions is not particularly difficult. More worrisomely, the extent to which manual moderation is enacted on those in violation of these restrictions is virtually non-existent. As things stand presently, virtually anyone with a working device and internet connection—adult, child, or otherwise—can use the application as they see fit.

Were it that this lawlessness  _ only _ affected the ‘effectiveness’ of the application, its persistence in this state would not have attracted any attention from the world at large. Tragically, recent online discussions concerning it have suggested that a number of worrisome trends rooted within its userbase presently threaten the appeal of its usage, and to a greater extent, the legality of its operation.

Though unsubstantiated and formally denied by the development company responsible for it, the majority of these rumors concern one of the sole remaining ‘taboos’ thought integral to the centuries of degeneracy and specisim that created the SEPH species: Sexual interactions between mature SEPH females and human males at or below the age of 10.

Whilst no more significant than a bump in the long, winding road tread by society in the wake of the normalization, the troubles surrounding this application evoke uniform discomfort in those that become privy to them.

For them, it suggests that the comfortable reality that they were raised within remains rife with fragility. A fragility that, if properly assaulted, might reduce the current world to a shattered state worse than the one that it was built to replace. 

Public ‘stock’ in such pessimism is relatively low, but all the same, it is felt.

Just like the fundamental attraction between SEPH and humans.

-

**A BEDROOM—10PM**

Izelia was a woman who derived an inane amount of pleasure from receiving social media updates from her children. Having been blessed with her first child more than a decade after technology’s integration with social interaction, their willingness to share the goings-on of their lives with her, and to a greater extent, contact her of their own volition, made her feel wanted as a parent. After all, for as much effort as she put into communicating with them, very little could stop them from outright ignoring her if they so chose to. 

It was for this reason—albeit not entirely—that Izelia made certain to keep her phone near her person at all times. Recent months had seen her become much more attached to her device for an entirely different set of reasons, but this did not dull her senses to the specially-selected notification sounds made by her phone each time one of her children updated her on something.

Presently laid flat across a bed just barely large enough to accommodate the length of her frame, her sensitivity to these noises was stronger than ever. Harried by a dizzying humidity that persisted within the airspace around her and an on-and-off outflow of blood from one of her nostrils, she nevertheless remained ready to reach out for the device when and if she was prompted to.

This was not to say that she was utterly fixated on the lengthy rectangle, however. In lieu of such a prompt, Izelia understood that she was free to direct her attention wherever she wished.

Presently, the entirety of her ‘freedom’ was consumed in the creation of pleasure for her boyfriend. With part of it, she held her the layered violet-blue of her eyes up in a loving stare at the youth as he straddled her midsection. With a larger fraction, she kept the alien interior of her mouth open and exposed, and the slime-caked, serpent-length tongue that it contained coiled around his cock.

The throbbing of the sweaty, obscenely-vascular phallus sandwiched between the scaled-down beanbag-chairs of paint-white, ccock-greased breastflesh at her chest told her that this much attention was absolutely necessary if she was to be considered as a ‘worthwhile girlfriend’ in the moment. Performing as a parent to her children was certainly important, but the child vigorously digging his monstrous erection back and forth through the makeshift orifice made between her breasts owned a share of heart that simple ‘importance’ was incapable of encompassing.

As a result of the difference between these feelings, Izelia had never once asked herself which of the two she’d select if made to choose between them. An answer likely existed within her, but as a mother and a young woman, ‘damning’ by its contents was something that she wished to avoid at all costs.

Now hours into her latest attempt at avoidance, the possibility that the manner in which she lived her life might one day confront her with this choice was completely foriegn to her.

So foreign, in fact, that she did not even consider it as genuine.

*BUZZZZZ-BUZZZZZ-BUZZZZZ*

Abruptly snapped from her musk-induced stupor by a familiar hum, Izelia plunged her left hand arm up into contact with the noise’s source. Pinching her cellphone between the pair of golden pincers that constituted her hand, she drew the device’s screen up to a position directly above her face whilst simultaneously tapping the tip of one of her pincers against its face to unlock it.

Once in place, a string of messages ended by a high quality photograph could be seen spread out across the device’s screen from top to bottom.

_ “Mom, I won! I got first place at the (gay activity that kids do that doesn’t matter)!” _

__

_ “It was super close, but I did it. Dad took a bunch of pictures lol “ _

__

_ “I got someone to take this one of me with the trophy and stuff. I hope your work thing is going ok c:” _

__

Depicted within the image at the end of the message chain was a smiling, formally-dressed adolescent Nihelgo. Adorned with a gold winner’s medal around herneck and clutching a championship trophy between her hands, her appearance was that of a bashful ‘winner’ appropriately proud of their accomplishment.

Consumed by a musk-addled brand of parental pride at the sight of her, Izelia immediately turned her attention to typing out a response. Left without the use of her right arm as a result of its width-wise ‘belting’ of her breasts against one another, her composition of this response was both slow and haphazard. In the end, though, the emoji riddled text that she produced still qualified as what one might expect from a proud parent.

“Congratulayos, Ulis c: c: Mommys very sory she had too miss ur specia day L:”

“I’m workin very very hard! See u wen I’m homo, ‘kay?”

Content with her work, Izelia shifted the tip of her pincer to send the message off before the deterioration of her mental state could deny her the ability to do so. But, just as this thought crossed her mind, the warmth and weight of a tiny hand as applied around her pincers saw the device slipped from her grasp.

This hand belonged to none other than the child straddling her stomach. Suddenly cognisant of the perpetual *PLAPP—CLOPP—PLAPP* that sounded out as his sex-soaked crotch collided with the underside of her cleavage, Izelia found herself far too ‘taken up’ with her titfucking to do anything about the happening. Instead content to watch as he began sliding his thumb up and down across the device’s face, she did not utter a single word of protest in response to the invasion of her privacy.

At least not until she was spoken to.

“First place, huh? You did mention she was pretty smart, I guess.” the boy began, voice addled only by the ‘exertion’ associated with pumping his crotch inwards at outwards. “To be honest, you probably should’ve gone—kids grow up really really fast these days, y’know?”

Izelia knew that the boy was expecting her to explain why she hadn’t gone. Strictly speaking, no explanation was necessary; her presence in his bedroom sufficed in and of itself. Still, had he not desired an answer, he wouldn’t have spoken out in the first place.

With this in mind, she began retracting her tongue. After intentionally drawing the lengthy organ back into her mouth at pace sluggish enough to tease the engorged blood vessels wriggling about the exterior of the boy’s phallus with its texture and excess lubrication, she began speaking in the same detached, matter-of-fact tone that he had used to address her.

“…Because being with you is more important right now. As long as I’m careful, I can see Ulis achieve something some other time.” she replied, quietly. “She’ll be young for a lot longer than you think. And in the first place, it’s my business how I spend the best years of my life. If I want to spend more of my time snorting my boyfriend’s cockstink while waiting for him to drench my face with cum, I will.”

“No one can tell me that I’m wrong from doing it, either. Not even you, Noat.”

Noat had expected a response along these lines, but Izelia’s specific choice of words stitched a grimace of frustration across his face. Quick to dip his torso further downwards in response (whilst pressing the face of his palms deeper into the greasy breastflesh beneath them), he appeared intent on venting this frustration in a sharpening of his thrusting chain. Without Izelia’s tongue to measure his aggression, the precum-clogged breast orifice surrounding his member had been left for him to use however he wished.

For a time, he took complete advantage of this freedom. Paying no mind to the SEPH beneath him, he concentrated himself on drawing his sex-drenched erection back and forth through the suffocating embrace of her sandwiched breast flesh. Leveraging the downward angling of his frame, he added further weight to the sloped hook-plunges of his length produced each time he slammed his hips inwards. Earning the bloated root of his erection a tighter squeeze against the underside of her breasts and a more pressurized breaching of his glans from their peak in the process, each hilt that he produced steam-rolled a painfully-motivating variety of sexual pleasure into the meat of his shaft.

To compliment these depressions, Noat made every retraction of his hips into a vehement wrench. Without curtailing the inches of latte-brown cockflesh that he peeled back through her compressed mounds per stroke (a full third of his member’s writhing bloat), he exacerbated both the speed and force at which he produced these motions. Effectively unplugging the confines of her breast orifice as one might yank a fist from a pressurized pipe, the back end of each of his strokes soon became accompanied by regular, *SPLORT*-inducing backdrafts of precum, semen, and sweat from the underside of Izelia’s mounds. Detached from everything about these happenings save the additional pleasure that they flushed out against his crotch, their occurrence served only to heap sexual motivation atop the demands of his libido.

Addictive as his ministrations appeared, Noat abandoned them as quickly as he had adopted them. As if to drive home the fact that his sudden infatuation with pounding the fat-riddled breast flesh surrounding his cock was not the product of a juvenile tantrum, he defied his frame’s desire for a prolonging of his bliss as best he could. Shaping his thrusts to stimulate his glans until the engorged knob could be stimulated no more, he ground his tolerance for stimulation down thrust by thrust until a wretched heat began to balloon within the root of his crotch.

When only a single thrust separated him from the rupture of this balloon, he halted his ministrations and turned his gaze back down towards the smooth, lust-flushed features owned by the woman below him.

Whilst his lower body trembled in anticipation of an orgasm, a grin without any of his earlier frustration bloomed across his face.

“You’re a really shitty parent on the inside, huh?” he chuckled, tone enveloped by juvenile warmth. “We’d both be better off if you just fucking drowned yourself with my cockjuice, so go ahead and snort it into that fucked up SEPH brain of yours.”

“That’s what an irresponsible pig-girlfriend like you ought to do, so that’s exactly what I’m expecting out of you. If you can’t at least manage that, this is the last time I’m just going to let you into my house when you have somewhere else you should be.”

This uttered, Noat produced a final depression of his length into the stifling onahole of breast flesh ahead of his cock. In an instant, he dug himself through a lengthy canal of sex-greased fat and flesh until his glans erupted from the peak of her mounds behind a flourish of precum and semen.

The moment the tip of his cock was free, it erupted. Stimulated above and beyond its breaking point, a rope of cockjuice different from the muddy globules blurted out between Izelia’s breasts erupted straight up into contact with her face. Refusing both a clean draping across the length of her face and a haphazard arcing across its span, the greyish-yellow paste instead created a wide, wadded splotch of semen atop the exposed purple of her right eye’s iris. Smooth at a glance, yet far too thick and plentiful to be without some amount of clotting capability, the stinking jizz strand’s impact utterly submerged more than half of her eye’s width underneath a discolored blanket of grime qualitatively split between melted plaster, mozzarella, and some form of tadpole-ridden adhesive.

A second strand of seed from his length was enough to completely obscure her right eye from perception. Though this strand was backed by a comparable amount of pressure, its angle of delivery left the upper portion of her right cheek similarly obscured underneath a sometimes smooth, sometimes bulbous caking of the substance.

Quick to notice the development of an unsatisfying pattern, Noat fought through the euphoria of his orgasm to ensure that the volume of seed he had stockpiled was not wasted. Raising his right hand, he wrenched Izelia’s right arm out from its ‘strapping’ of her breasts against one another, and subsequently reapplied his grasp to the midsection of his cock. Dragging the gleaming rod of blood vessels and cockflesh out from between her breasts, he next angled his wrist to direct his spurting cocktip at the yet-plastered fractions of her face.

Not surprisingly, his doing so facilitated the creation of similarly garish plaster-smears all about the surface area of her face. One after another, glutted patches of nut were layered atop the porcelain white of Izelia’s features until only fractions of them remained exposed to perception. However, unlike the mess mounted atop the left side of her face, the control that Noat exerted over their delivery resulted in the occasional discharge of lengthy, disgustingly over-fed noodles of the substance up across her face towards her forehead. By the end of his orgasm, the specs of white representing Izelia’s face, eyelids, and forehead were rendered as ‘afterthoughts’ relative to rancid layers and strands of semen that surrounded them.

Once finished stroking semen out of his length, Noat turned his attention elsewhere. Though not uninterested in how the vile mess he had created on Izelia’s face might settle (and for that matter, the task that she had yet to complete with it), the end of his orgasm saw him curl his torso backwards to cast his gaze down at the lower half of her frame.

If taken in through bleary eyes and appreciated by a mind worn by the stinging bliss of release, the sight that awaited his gaze still managed to draw a wry smile across the boy’s face.

Thighs spread and hips quaking, the exact moment that Noat’s gaze hit Izelia’s crotch was the one wherein a pressurized splutter of clear, syrup-quality female lubrication splattered out of her exposed lower lips. First glazing the succulent inner-sides of her thighs and what little mattress space sat between them in a thick glaze of goo, the pressurized orgasm eventually ebbed off into a haggard oozing of the substance out from between her fat-padded mons.

After watching the event from start to finish, most all of Noat’s frustration vanished. Evidently robbed of something by the sight, he turned back to peer down at Izelia as a slightly-worn version of his usual self.

Here, he exhaled.

“See, I try to be mean to you, but I always forget that this stuff just makes SEPH squirt until they start dropping IQ points.” began Noat, wearily. “It’s really dumb that you still react that way, but I guess if you could help it, you wouldn’t have decided to come here in the first place. Really makes me wonder what’s gonna happen if you ever decide that you still want to have a life at some point, though.”

Still consumed within the throes of her latest release, Izelia remained silent in the face of her younger suitor’s goading. Though his words reached her ears just as he had produced them, her tolerance for the biting stimulation that had ignited her uterus when the scent of his seed was smeared across her face was nowhere near high enough to facilitate speech whilst in the midst of ‘appreciating’ it.

Conversely, snorting cockstink into her brain alongside his semen and messily consuming a portion of the load that covered her face remained well within her performative ‘wheel house’. After several short, semen-stymied breaths of air whose exhalation inflated thin, thumb-sized bubbles of semen directly below her left nostril, Izelia raised both of her hands up to positions directly above either side of her face. Once comfortable with their positions, she again opened her mouth to expose the mess of nubs, bloat, and lubrication contained within her mouth, and subsequently began clearing wadded layers of cocksludge matted to the right side of her face straight into her mouth. Gluttony and shamelessness on full display, she repeatedly applied her right pincer-set as a makeshift clearing shovel to draw fractions of her face’s coating down towards her mouth. Ending each angled stroke with a flick of her wrist and a voracious lashing of her tongue across the exterior of her right pincer, her efforts quickly pooled (or perhaps piled) a tongue-obscuring volume of semi-solid semen into the base of her jaw whilst further exposing the semen-muddied flesh of her face.

Throughout feeding herself, Izelia did not leave her left pincer idle. For every clearance of semen she produced with her right pincer, a swipe from her left pushed globs of seed surrounding the pair of slits that constituted her nostrils closer to the center of her face. Upon pushing most of the semen still covering her features towards this location, she momentarily drew her left pincer out contact with her face.

Moments later, it disappeared. Behind a single flick of her socket-like wrist and a grotesque flourish of slime, the golden pincers were replaced by five similarly-colored rectangular digits sized to match the fingers and thumb of a human.

No sooner were these digits formed did she drive the palm from which they had sprouted flat against her face. As soon as it was set atop the mess of sludge, she at last began on the task that Noat had set out for her prior to the beginning of his orgasm.

Without warning, she began to snort. One cluttered, moan-backed inhalation at a time, she forced herself to drag the rancid chunks of cockjuice spread out across her face up into an increasingly-vile congestion of her sinuses. Spared complete cognitive ruination on account of her having huffed the substance’s stench for minutes on end, her ‘obstacles’ in this activity were limited to her tolerance for discomfort and suffocation—obstacles that she handled with an ease as depraved as it was humiliating.

Such was her prowess at forcing herself to snort fresh semen up into her own brain that even the child who had requested it of her was reduced to an incredulous fit of giggling as complimented by a bashful cupping of his left hand across his eyes.

To a point, this was the only way that Noat knew how to respond to the event.

“Haha, come on, stop—that’s fucking gross.” he chuckled, grinning. “Do you want me to start calling you a disgusting pig all the time or something? The squirting is one thing, but you’re really just making a sloppy mess of yourself on purpose now.”

Having freed her now-reddened eyes from underneath the semen that had been dumped atop them, these words moved Izelia to smile with them. Hurrying her way through the consumption of the semen welled within her mouth (one that would have been impossible had she not been allowed to focus on it), she seamlessly transitioned from making guttural *GLURSH* noises with her mouth and throat to the production of actual speech with them.

“Oh, boo. First I get told to snort jizz into my head, then I get called a disgusting pig and laughed at for doing it. You’re going to make your girlfriend feel bad if you keep this up  ♥ .” she complained, voice audibly congested by the semen packed into her skull and esophagus. “If it was really so repulsive, just be more specific with what you ask for next time. I take all of the requests given by my trainer very seriously, so unless you specify, I’m just going to do whatever I think you’ll find nastiest.”

With this, Noat’s deflation was completed. Rolling out of his seated position atop Izelia’s midsection, he situated himself off to the massive SEPH’s left before dropping himself down back first against some of the pillows situated at the peak of his mattress.

Now smiling wryly, he exhaled a retort meant for Izelia directly at his ceiling.

“Didn’t I tell you not to call me that?” he asked, wearily. “Actually, nevermind. Do you feel like going home yet? I’ve said this, I dunno, 4 times, but I wasn’t expecting to have you here any time soon, you know?”

Quite accustomed to her suitor’s extremely reasonable complaints, Izelia met his discontentment with pursuit. Already on her back at the boy’s side, she reached over towards his frame with both of her arms to draw his frame into a loose embrace. Draping her left arm width wise across his chest and her right around his neck up into contact with the right side of his skull, she purposed both grasps to draw his frame into contact with the sweat-moistened flesh of her breasts and midsection.

This done, she spoke out again as well.

“No, I can’t say I do. As much as I wouldn’t mind you fucking me like an animal and dumping me on the street like a piece of garbage, I’m here for the full SEPH experience today.” she replied, smiling. “It’s not every day that my stupid life gives me the opportunity to actually have any fun with you, so I have to take every chance I get—even when that means just dropping in to see you.”

“And anyway, surprising you helps me stay relevant. I know you’re still on Poke FindMe; who says you won’t find some depraved pig that you like better than me?”

Drawn far too close to Izelia’s frame than was comfortable, Noat responded to her latest set of responses far faster than the others.

“You know you smell like complete shit, right? Why are you hugging me?” he spat.

“That’s how pigs are supposed to smell, sweetie. You also didn’t deny my suggestion, which just proves that my being here was a good idea in the first place.” Izelia replied.

“…I don’t think I’d go through the trouble. I knew what SEPH were like and stuff, but running into another one like you is more than I wanna have to deal with.”

“Oh really, I’ll take that as a compliment.” she chirped. “Now, since you obviously aren’t done using my insides as your meat-toilet, why don’t you tell me how you want to abuse your stupid SEPH girlfriend next? I won’t be leaving until I know that I’ve done a good job, so the sooner you dump your squirmy babyjuice inside of me is the sooner you’ll get what you want.”

“Or at least, what you’re  _ saying _ that you want, anyway  ♥ .”

Contained within Izelia’s comment was a suggestion that Noat’s disposition was incapable of ignoring. Immediately incensed, he forced himself up from his compression at the larger woman’s side and resumed his performance as the youth that had fucked her into a mess of semen, sweat, and stench.

Before anything else, he propped himself upright atop his knees. Next moving down across the mattress to a point adjacent Izelia’s pale-gold-armored knee caps, he purposed his loom over top her frame (or as much of one as a 7-year-old could manage) to slip his tiny hands underneath the adult-torso-width mass of her thighs. After pressing the left limb section upwards (a feat that Izelia quietly aided), he moved himself between her thighs and applied the same extent of elevation to her right thigh.

This done, he began to push them backwards. Assisted by further smiling compliance from Izelia, he pushed both limbs to an angled spread out and away from her crotch, then through a revealing depression down towards parity with her torso.

Where this was concerned, he was remorseless. Only when the force that he generated with his palms left the relative thinness of her calves’ set level with either side of her skull did he cease egging on the limbs’ depression.

Subsequently, he turned his attention towards reorienting himself. Beginning with his standing from out of his knee-bent waddle atop the mattress, he moved his naked frame (and his still-erect shaft by proxy) into another imposing loom over top Izelia’s frame.

The manner in which he did so ensured that his intentions for the position would be unambiguous as well. Planting his tiny feet into the bedsheets to either side of her upturned thighs and bending his knees so as to draw his erection down to a menacing ‘point’ at her exposed orifices, Noat conveyed his desire to fuck the massive SEPH’s frame via a mating press without the utterance of a single word.

If not for the gaze that he cast down at her frame, his body would have slipped directly into initiating the sex act as well. With this, his eyes demanded that he pause. Below him was a creamy-white body cavity vastly larger than (and different from) his own. Sculpted for ruthless and frequent reproduction, Izelia’s hips owned a width that his juvenile arm span could only match at a full spread. Cut and curvaceous in spite of her atypical body structure, sharp indentations surrounded by visually succulent fat-padding marked the ‘V’ shape of her crotch as ‘separate’ from their fertile span (her hips) whilst perfectly feeding into the engorged thickness of her thighs.

Curiously, her midsection lacked a comparable degree of suppleness. Though accustomed to the sight, the comparative thinness of her abdominal section and upper torso reminded Noat of the difference between a bicep and quadriceps. Such obscenity was to be expected of a SEPH, but being a child, this fact had yet to completely sink into his brain.

Above this fraction of her frame were a pair of impossibly-large breasts framed by the undersides of her kneecaps, and a sweaty, semen-smeared face engaged in a smiling stare straight back up at him: a perfect set of compliments for her lower body owning their own brand of disgustingly-feminine appeal.

Within several seconds of ogling her frame, Noat’s intent for Izelia endured a series of alterations. Unaware that his desires had shifted any at all, he abruptly raised his line of sight up from the pale-gold bloat of Izelia’s palm width nipples up towards her face and held it there for a moment before speaking.

If he did not address her now, he never would.

“You should know better than to try to tell me what I want.” he began, calmly. “I meant everything that I said: I didn’t need a sex-addicted animal like you here today. I’d have been better off doing kid stuff, and you’d have been better off playing pretend with your family. I guess it’s my fault, though; I shouldn’t have given youa choice.”

“Anyway, since you can’t seem to balance out your life by yourself, I’m going to make you into an even more impressionable piece of meat than you already are. When your life falls apart; when you have nothing left—maybe then you’ll start listening to me when I talk” he added.

“Oh, but wait…”

“Insatiable baby-factories like you and your  **entire fucking race** don’t like thinking to begin with, do they?”

Like her partner, Izelia held herself back from speaking out until she absolutely couldn’t anymore. She had recognized what was coming to her right from the instant that Noat surged up from her side. Her presumption, her dedication; these things were merely tools with which to motivate her young partner into helping create the experience that she desired. Thus, when finally he began manipulating her frame as the object that she considered it to be, she committed herself to facilitating his motions until he finally penetrated her.

This commitment persisted within her until her eyes caught sight of the sweaty, nastily-vascular baseball-bat of cockflesh rooted at his crotch. Cripplingly smitten with its dimensions and texture in spite of her familiarity with them, the passing glance that she passed at the russet brown organ devolved into a prolonged stare at the bloated, earthworm-length blood vessels congested atop the flesh-trunk’s face, and the drooling, more darkly-colored girth of his glans. For as much as she wished to attend to Noat’s comments when first he began to produce them, the very foundation of her being prioritized rumination on what the 13 inch pipe of flesh would do to her insides once plunged into them.

Not surprisingly, it was this same foundation that provided the SEPH with a response for his utterances. Reacting solely to the words ‘insatiable’ and ‘baby-factory’, Izelia resumed her affection-drenched stare up at the boy and smiled.

Not lovingly, but lustfully.

“I love you so much, Noat ♥ . Please teach your disobedient SEPH-bitch what it means to upset their trainer  ♥ .”

Albeit not for the reasons that her warped mind suggested, these words resulted in Noat providing her with everything she had asked for and more. Behind a scowl of disgust and an exhalation of displeasure, he dropped his crotch downwards and hooked his crotch inwards to mash the semen-clogged tip of his member down through the exposed plumpness of her sphincter.

This without a single word of affection in kind…

-

**OVERGROWN CHILDREN & UNDERAGE ADULTS**

Where Izelia was concerned, Noat did his utmost to be honest. 

At no point throughout his berating of the adult SEPH did he suggest that using her holes (or for that matter, her entire body) was not enjoyable for him. Putting aside the fact that doing so constituted a very obvious lie, Noat’s opinion of the woman was not yet so negative as to validate his feeding into her perceived worthlessness as a SEPH. It could certainly be argued that her species were predisposed to feral, self-destructive behavior regardless of this, but so far as he was concerned, this behavior only benefited him.

Thusly, he chose his words carefully. From the beginning of their conversation right into the livid depression of his cock into the fear-inspiring confines of her asshole, all of his comments towards her concerned her family, her poor decision making, and what was to become of her if she did not measure her actions. When further sex between them became inevitable, he ceased speaking entirely. For the first minute of his toe-tip set ‘pressing’ of the lubricant-smeared pipe at his crotch in and out of her asshole, the noises that left his lips were limited to thin pants and frustrated grunts—the exact sort of thing that one might expect from a child exerting the kind of energy that he was.

Soon, however, this changed. Thrust by agonizingly-pleasant thrust, the seal that Noat had placed on his lips was worn by a stimulation that his body was not yet capable of subverting. Backed by the suckling of the monstrous, goo-drenched composition of her asshole and the body heat the bled from her thighs up against the underside of his palms, every inch of ‘wear and tear’ that this seal endured was progressively exacerbated by a perpetual wriggle of stimulation up his spine.

In the end, two minutes was all that he could manage. Two minutes into vehemently skewering cockflesh into Izelia’s insides, every part of him not yet invested in her brutalization was enlisted into the act all at once.

Of them, his mouth was simply the fastest.

“I said what I said for a reason, you know. You’re an adult—a stupid, cock-addicted bitch of one, but still.” he began, callously. “I don’t care if you ruin the rest of your life doing this. As long as you’re here for me to use, I’m going to make sure I masturbate with your insides until my dickjuice is plugged into every hole that you have…”

“That’s what’s going to happen if you keep coming over here. Your family is going to lose the mother that they love so much without ever finding out what gross, semen-brained  **bitch** she is.” he continued. “But I guess you’re fine with that, huh? Getting fucked until your brain doesn’t work anymore is just fine for you if I’m the one doing, right?”

“Or am I wrong?”

In the midst of his thrusting chain, Noat addressed Izelia with a clarity of voice that suggested his body was utterly detached from its sweaty goring of her asshole. Upon completion of his utterance, he applied another fraction of his frame to her fucking in the best way that he knew how. Without once taking his eyes off of her face, he drew his palms out from their depression against the underside of her thighs, and subsequently up into contact with the width of her neck. On contact with the pipe, he threaded his fingers between one another, and drove his palms down against the relatively narrow girth of her neck whilst contracting the musculature of his forearms.

While young, Noat was not stupid. He knew all too well what the imposition of physical distress onto a SEPH like Izelia would result in. Before she suffocated—if she did at all—a stimulation just as overwhelming as what was coursing through her innards would surge up her brainstem in waves, thus crippling her ability to think and act far more quickly than his cock could manage on its own.

He simply didn’t care. Partly because Izelia’s wellbeing had become irrelevant to him, and also as a result of his knowing what this additional stimulation would bring out of the woman.

Within seconds of his compressing her windpipe and voice box, Izelia responded to his suggestions with a smile, and soon afterwards, a fresh expulsion of blood from her right nostril.

“ _ M-Maybe I want that. Maybe I want a trainer to fuck me until I’m retarded slab of meat who’s only good for draining c-cocks and spitting out babies _ ?” hoarse yet intelligible, Izelia spoke out after several seconds spent struggling with the crossing of her eyes, and her untouched womanhood’s desire to splatter fresh cum against her partner’s crotch. “ _ W-Why does what I want m-matter less? I-It shouldn’t, and it doesn’t. I c-chose to have my family, so I c-can decide how i-important they are if...i-if I w-w _ ”

“ ♥♥♥♥ !!”

Though ‘trained’ to function under various forms of duress, Izelia was not so gifted a SEPH as to deny her biology. As she spoke, the thrusts that Noat gored into her spluttering asshole prodded pleasure centers embedded within her guts with enough force and consistency to draw her womanhood into adherence of their bliss. Overcome with stimulation, her folds ejected a second expulsion of heated cuntsyrup from between her lower lips. This time plastered against the rutting crotch and midsection of the child on top of her, the entirety of her orgasm’s volume was immediately put to use in greasing Noat’s thrusts and intensifying the lurid splattering noises produced each time he plunged his crotch down into contact with her own.

Not surprisingly, speaking through the initial seconds of this release was impossible. Throughout this period, her eyes rolled up towards the peaks of their sockets, and the trail of blood leaking out from her nostril acquired a second upturn in volume. Eventually though, after a great deal of unintelligible hissing and cooing, the utterance she had intended to produce seconds prior slithered out of her mouth with the same cadence and coherence she had started with.

“ _ I c-can decide what’s i-important to me, Noat. B-But I haven’t decided to do anything yet _ .” she wheezed, voice now much more ‘addled’ by the compression of her neck. “J-Just let me have this. P-Please, just let me be a drooling, SEPH bitch for you w-while I’m here.”

“D-Don’t make me think—I-I’ll even stop talking to my f-family on the phone while I’m here if that’s what you want. J-Just let me be the squirting c-cocksleeve you fuck your babyjuice into…”

“Let me be your stupid,  **fucking** Pokémon, Noat.”

(Damn, nigga, made up racial slurs? That’s wild).

Callous and driven as Noat appeared, nothing within him was capable of disregarding Izelia’s words as he had her others. Faced with their content, what ambivalence remained within him disappeared. His mind refused to ignore the countless problems associated with her mindset, but in that moment, their importance was subverted by something that his psyche considered to be even more vital: slamming ridiculous quantities of semen into his first and only SEPH.

Consumed by this desire, he grit his teeth to discourage himself from speaking out of turn. This done, he pushed his gaze down from its consumption of Izelia’s facial features to a satisfying fixation on the bruised white flesh at her midsection. Rendered as such by the repeated hilting of his cock into her intestines (and the subsequent upward-angled hooking of his meat up against her body cavity), its appearance to him then was that of a benchmark for his efforts. Until this bruising dominated the entirety of her stomach, or better still, disappeared in accommodation of whatever volume of semen he bloated her insides with, his abuse of Izelia’s frame could only be considered as incomplete.

And this would never do—not if he wished to inseminate her as the manufactured breeding stock she had been born to be.

Upon recognizing this, Noat complimented his focused stare at Izelia’s stomach with a vigorous intensification of his thrusting pattern.

Relative to what he had already established, ‘intensification’ represented a significantly brutal (and commensurately impressive) feat. To begin with, Noat’s mating press had leveraged Izelia’s position and the length of his cock to their utmost. Whilst balanced by his palms’ depression against the underside of her thighs and elevated slightly on the tips of his toes, the folding of Izelia’s lower body (i.e the enhanced exposure of her cunt and asshole) became ideal for the delivery of heavy, crescent-shaped depressions of his cock into her intestines. Right from his first, he experienced no difficulty in hooking over half of his engorged breeding loaf out from her innards’ grasp and straight back into a stomach-tenting hilt into it.

Again, this was no small feat. Within Izelia’s lower intestines was a canal of drooling, arousal-fattened flesh very much unlike the puffy tubing of a ‘well-used’ human digestive tract. Exceptionally squishy and pliant, yet at the same time coated with countless nickel-width mounds of rigid, phallus-smothering protrusions, the texture of her intestines owned more in common with a manufactured masturbation toy than a digestive tract. As though this in itself was not enough ‘ubiquity’ for an alien orifice, her depths’ response to the presence of his cock was on par with the level of squirting and convulsion that her cunt might’ve produced. Each time Noat buried himself within her, a slightly-sludgier iteration of the syrup that drizzled from her lower lips was ‘juiced’ from her pink intestine flesh by way of their convulsing against the swell of his mast. Drawn out of her shithole in haggard splutters each time he wrenched himself outwards, then fucked back through the flexible canal with greater ease as he hilted himself, the sexual mucus created an additional set of . If Noat truly wished to violate her insides, he’d need to do it whilst dogged by a combined excess of flesh and lubrication.

For a time, this was exactly what he did. Though consumed by pleasure all the while, the underage youth aggressively wrenched his length upwards and downwards through Izelia’s depths without signage of ‘undue’ adversity. Whilst hilting himself, he endured the expulsion of heated lubrication out against the sensitive bloat of his shaft (both against the inches he reinserted within her and those left perpetually buried towards her gut), and at the same time tolerated the monstrous quivering of alien intestine flesh against it. Every vein-swathed inch that he slammed through her (approximately 7 of the 13 his shaft had to offer) was pulverised by the protrusions mounted to her intestine lining, and those driven back up to his cock’s stomach-tenting ‘peak’ within her guts were assaulted by stretches of intestine flesh dominated by denser arrangements of the heated, cock-milking nubs.

No matter how deeply or aggressively he hilted himself, the boy managed to follow up these depressions with an equally taxing outward wrench. In the blink of an eye—or perhaps one and a half—the same stretch of cockflesh he plunged into her was dragged through her the sex-fattened grasp of her sphincter behind a clogged eruption of lubrication. Dogged all the while by the same oppressive milking put out by her intestines’ protrusions (as complemented by her hole’s refusal to cease its suckling without a fight), his managing this any at all was more than even the most sexually-seasoned of human males could hope to accomplish inside Izelia their first time around.

And yet, he still sought out more. After hearing Izelia restate the same helpless desire that had brought them together in the first place, he redoubled his effort into something truly destructive. First tightening his compression of the matured SEPH’s neck as a child might close their eyes in preparation to rip off a bandage, he afterwards began pouring all himself into drilling the orifice accosting his member into a leaking crater of flesh and semen--all so that the woman in possession in this crater might one day lose her ability to regret the decision that she had made.

Ironically, the intensification of his thrusts pushed the concept of ‘regret’ so far back into Izelia’s mind that it ceased to hold meaning for her. The moment Noat sharpened his thrusts, she allowed her psyche to fall from the edge of the cliff it had teetered from, and gave herself over to the stinging biological satisfaction that was repeatedly punched into her innards.

Prior to this, her attentions had been firmly split between this satisfaction and the dissonance evoked within her by Noat’s suggestions.

She had not forgotten what she was. As a SEPH, she knew what would become of her if she continued enjoying sex with Noat. Beyond a certain point, she’d cease carrying about the facets of her life unrelated to the scent of his cock and the sensation of his sperm cells wriggling inside of her reproductive organs. The family she had made, the husband she had married, the children that she claimed to love; all of these things would be progressively blotted from her mind until all that remained was her devotion to the child fucking her sphincter into a pudgy, precum-smeared donut of flesh.

A part of her desired this more than anything. With it would come a quality of satisfaction even greater than what she accrued from playing the part of the youth’s ‘girlfriend’. The purpose that she had presumed as being forever lost to her on the day that she attained maturity would at last be within her grasp, and the years that she had wasted in search of it could be validated as a means to an end.

But she refused to reach for it. Haunted by the smiling face of a child clutching a trophy, she did not use the suggestions Noat had made about her future as an excuse to confirm her intent. Instead grafting herself to the present, she insisted on the next best alternative: suffering so as to have the very best of both worlds.

The Izelia of the present was unlikely to have ‘stooped’ to such a compromise. The affect that bloomed within her heart whenever she saw the faces of her children paled in comparison to the stinging bliss that spread throughout her midsection when Noat drove himself balls deep inside of her. The verbalizations of love and affection that she shared with her husband and children paled in comparison with the sodden *PLOP!* noises produced as Noat’s semen-swelled testicles flogged her drooling sphincter. Even her husband’s love—a feeling that she once believed that she could not live without—became undesirable when placed opposite some aspect of Noat’s blending her shithole with his cock.

If made to choose between the rest of her life and a handful of decades being skewered into drooling stupidity with Noat’s cock, this Izelia’s decision would have been made in a heartbeat. Amidst subjection to a break-neck jackhammering of her depths unique to her suitor’s most hate-fueled expressions of lust, choosing him over everything else in her life was not  _ a _ choice.

It was her only choice.

Appropriately, she was far more willing to verbalize this fact as well. Tongue loosened by the oxygen-deprived euphoria that worsened for every second Noat maintained his thrusting chain, depraved adulation for her suitor and self-deprecating diatribe towards herself began spilling out of her drooling maw within minutes of his efforts’ intensification.

“T-That’s right! F-Fuck me more, F-FUCK YOUR BRAINLESS SEPH-CUNT UNTIL SHE CAN’T STOP SQUIRTING ALL OVER HERSELF  ♥ !” half squealing and half screaming, the prolonging of her suffocation added a depraved mania to her voice unheard in her earlier address. “That’s what feels nicest, right? Getting my asshole bred like a stupid  **FUCKING** pig feels nicest for me, so I know it must feel  _ just _ as good for you  ♥ .”

“Don’t think about me at all, trainer. Beat my guts into a fucking pulp~! Rape me full of your cock juice until I can the only thing I can understand is what it feels like to milk your cock dry with my holes  ♥ !”

“That’s all I’m fucking good for—I’ll be worth more to you if you do it. T-The only way I’ll feel anything close to real happiness is if you FUCK ME INTO A FERAL SOW THAT CAN ONLY UNDERSTAND YOUR COCK!”

As might’ve been inferred from their contents, the utterances that she produced were largely a product of her uterus’ inability to speak for itself. Or not, but you basically have to take my word for it either way, so just trust a mans.

As she spoke, sizeable convulsions conducted from her reproductive tubing through to her uterus carried portly ovum into the interior of her womb one after another. So far as her frame was concerned, the stimulation that Noat was fucking into her asshole was something that only be achieved by the rutting of her cunt. Operating with the erroneous understanding that it was her folds being split and not her asshole, the unused organs prepared themselves for her suitor’s orgasm by senselessly dumping reproductive cells into her uterus.

For a female SEPH, the funneling of multiple ovum through their inner tubing was typically accompanied by a stimulation so potent that only a series of screaming orgasms could complement it. In Izelia’s case, however, the level of stimulation that she was already enduring was sufficient to subvert this grating bliss altogether. Spared debilitation by its quality, the repeated entry of eggs into her womb instead influenced her subconsciously.

According to this influence, appreciating Noat’s efforts no longer qualified as sufficient action. She needed him to use her—to breed her so ruthlessly that his genetic material continued to violate her long after her insemination.

Succinctly, she needed to be hated as the useless slab of SEPH cuntflesh that her genetics predisposed her to be.

As such, when next she found herself with enough oxygen to waste on speech, the mewls that escaped her maw were made even more perverse than those that had preceded them.

**“CUMINSIDEME CUMINSIDEME CUMINSIDE ME** ♥ **RAPE MY SHITHOLE FULL OF COCKJUICE** ♥♥ **DO IT UNTIL I FUCKING DIE~!”**

**“ONLY YOU CAN DO IT** ♥ **. ONLY YOU CAN HATE ME ENOUGH FOR IT, SO PLEASE, GIVE ME EVERYTHING!”**

Though Izelia’s scattered consciousness derived a great deal of catharsis from uttering these things, her expectations remained measured with regard to their ultimate effect. Rushing her trainer’s orgasm was no longer something that she was capable of, but to begin with, it was not her place to decide when her betters finished using her. At her core, she was at her happiest when the beginning and end of Noat’s masturbation with her frame remained out of her hands—at least during the instances wherein his orgasms were not made her responsibility.

It thusly came as a significant surprise to her when her goading amounted to something. Yanked from the euphoria of her own brutalization by a sudden punch of weight against her neck, she found it within herself to again train her gaze up at the child above her.

This time, it was his face that greeted her instead of the ceiling.

“If that’s what you want…” reeling his crotch outwards as he spoke, a certain amount of genuine malice now be heard within Noat’s voice. “Who am I to stop you?! Go ahead and slurp down all of my cockjuice with my asshole you worthless SEPH cunt! Suck out every drop until you’re bloated with it!”

Throughout this utterance, Noat messily re-hilted his shaft within her asshole behind another gutting plunge of his crotch. This time following up the effort with an inward shift of his body weight and a timely cessation of his thrusting chain, his actions put all of the weight and force that he could muster into a single, *GLRSH*-inducing impression of cockmeat into her innards.

As soon as the tip of his cock hit the peak of its loaf-wide tenting of her guts, it happened—

With minimal warning and all of the disdain in the world, Noat began feeding his cum straight into Izelia’s intestines…

**-**

**GREED**

Izelia did try to attend to Noat’s orgasm. Prior to its actual occurrence, it was the only thing that she could think about. The spread of orifice-scalding warmth throughout her intestines, the swelling of her stomach in accommodation of whatever ludicrous volume of nut he pumped into her; the appeal that the event held for her was endless. Ultimately complimented by the knowledge that the use of one of her holes had been enough to satisfy her human partner, no greater entertainment existed for her than taking in the mind-numbing outflow of sludge and losing herself in its details.

In spite of this, she failed to so much as attempt doing so. Much like every other time she set out to do the impossible, her intention to savor Noat’s latest orgasm began and ended with the discharge of a single, phallus-length thread of greyish-yellow nut from the tip of his cock. When the clotted tadpole-paste exploded out into contact with the intestine flesh tented around his glans—flesh made tenderer by minutes of pummelling from by the foremost inches of his shaft—her understanding of the event was limited to a spread of satisfaction within her brain and an explosion of raw stimulation at her gut.

Like fluid poured into a punctured container, the finer details that she had hoped to capture were perceived by a psyche too destroyed to appreciate them. Throughout, the only thing that she could be certain of with regards to the event was the fact that it was happening. If it weren’t, her midsection would not have begun ballooning with semen, and Noat would not have remained on top of her. Too oxygen-deprived and overstimulated to make sense of anything further, the beginnings of Noat’s orgasm were spent by her in an overwhelmed stupor ill-fitted for the woman who had so vehemently verbalized her desire to be used as a semen-toilet.

If unbecoming in her failure, Izelia couldn’t be blamed for this. As had been the case with the orgasm Noat released across her face, the nature of his latest was dominated by the quality and volume of his seed. Following the smearing of heavy, clump-prone cockjuice to the rawed intestine lining wrapped around the tip of his cock, similarly lengthy and discolored strands of semen were spewed out against the same inundated pocket of flesh at a pace fast enough to distend the already-stretched flesh into a dumpy flesh balloon of intestine-wrapped semen.

Upon swelling to the size of a healthy water balloon, the continued discharge of semen from Noat’s length resulted in an exertion of control by her alien innards. By way of constriction and convulsion, the intestine flesh surrounding his member was rearranged in such a way that the discolored threads of semen surging through it were redirected towards the boundless depths of her small intestines as opposed to same pocket of large intestine he had hilted himself against. Specifically, serpentine tugging performed by her innards depressed the focal point of his hilt and allowed for the remainder of his orgasm to be spewed into a container capable of accommodating it.

Initially, the organ’s discretion made Noat’s release appear commonplace. One at a time, smooth bursts of pent up sludge were launched into flesh-obscuring flops atop the uniquely-textured depths of her yet-fucked large intestine. When packed atop one another to the point of bloating the tube to a state of sausage-width fatness, further convulsions pushed the trapped volume of seed further up towards her small intestine to the tune of a distinctly-digestive *GLORP*. Induced again and again over the course of several seconds, the chaining of these noises with one another soon became the soundtrack for a uniform inundation of intestines with cum.

And then, they disappeared. Not a minute into Noat’s release, the continued shovelling of semen further and further up the length of her digestive tract bottomed out into a noisy flushing of the substance directly into her stomach. Very much unlike her digestive tubing in terms of capacity, this sac proved all too happy to tax itself for the purpose of containing Noat’s ‘nutrients’. The moment its natural volume was consumed by the substance, the continued vomiting of semen into its midst saw the organ begin swelling outwards towards parity with a dumpy, midsection-fattening sac of cockjuice. Bit by bit, Izelia’s midsection was made swell fatter and rounder in mimicry of an especially squishy and languid pregnancy until the sheer amount of semen that was packed into the organ began to impose the slightest bit of tautness onto her guts exterior. Still far more doughy and sloshy than it was globe-like, this imbalance was further exaggerated for each surge of reproductive sewage that was pumped into it.

Precisely a minute after the beginning of Noat’s orgasm, the bloating of her midsection ceased altogether. Left with an undersized beanbag chair’s worth of semen engorging the now reddish-white flesh of her stomach, the ‘ideals’ she had imagined for her trainer’s release were realized in a manner that would have exceeded her expectations were she aware of it. As this was not the case, it served only to complete an image: that of a mindless sow serving her purpose without any awareness of her doing so.

For all of his juvenile ambivalence, this image was one that Noat derived a great deal of pleasure from. Not quite as susceptible to stimulation as his older partner, the end of his release brought about a natural trailing of his line of sight up towards her face, then down towards her midsection in search of new ‘areas of interest’.

At the end of this transition, what he laid eyes on saw a chuckle escape his lips before he could do anything to stifle it.

“Figures. You keep asking for awful shit like this, but you’re still not capable of handling it.” he teased, snidely. “I doubt you can hear me right now, but I’ll say it again anyway: SEPH who get exposed to humans this far into their maturity take a much longer time to acclimate to reproducing with them than a younger one would.”

“I might be able to handle it just fine, but you’re only going to fuck yourself up faster if you keep biting off more than you can—”

“Oh.”

As it turned out, Noat was more delirious than he had been willing to admit. Despite having finished relieving himself with Izelia’s body minutes prior, his hands remained firmly compressed against the midsection of her windpipe, and his still-erect cock remained firmly embedded within the semen-clogged depths of her asshole.

Expecting Izelia to attend to anything that he was saying whilst in such a position was foolhardy. This in mind, he pulled his palms out of contact with her neck, and afterwards replaced them atop the upturned undersides of her thighs to assist in dislodging his cock from inside of her. With them, he began holding Izelia’s lower body in place so as to more effectively wrench fractions of his cock back out through her hole.

Fighting against the grasp of her lower intestines alongside the discharge of his load’s dregs all throughout, the series of tugs that he produced began and ended without anything of note occuring. As if in acceptance of its failure, his glans’ popping from her sphincter’s grasp was not accompanied by a prolapsing of her intestine flesh, but the presentation of a semen-mired crater of loosened asshole flesh and viscous semen.

Confident in his understanding of the inner workings of Izelia’s body, Noat initially thought nothing of her asshole’s apparent indifference. Far more concerned with the semen-bloated state of her stomach, his first move once free from her asshole’s grasp was an outstretching of his left hand down towards it.

At the same moment his gaze fell away from her face, an ear-piercing exclamation from the SEPH jammed it straight back upwards.

“GH-HUUUHHH!! OHMIFUCKIN—NNYUGHHH ♥♥♥ !”

No sooner did Izelia draw a haggard breath of air into her lungs did she purpose this air to begin squealing out in orgasm.

More so than ever, she deserved to. With the re-oxygenation of her brain had come the renewal of her ability to attend to the goings on within herself. All at once, the purposeful wriggling of countless overfed sperm cells within both her intestines and stomach became as apparent to her as the light within the bedroom. Simultaneously, the warmth and pressure exerted by the ludicrous volume of semen distending her stomach assaulted her consciousness with a sensation mixed between invasion and nausea. Subjected to both sets of stimuli whilst at their most vivid and psyche-wrecking, compartmentalizing them was impossible. In lieu of more potent options, her frame selected another brain-rotting orgasm as its means of catharsis. Involuntarily, Izelia mashed her feet into the mattress surface beneath her, and popped her crotch outwards as if attempting to separate it from her torso. On completion of these acts, yet another arced torrent of cuntsyrup burst from her lust-swollen lower lips out onto the soaked mattress space below her frame.

Nose bleeding and lips drooling, this release soon proved itself to be different from its predecessors. From the global contraction of her musculature to the volume of the squeal that she produced, simple observation of the squirting fit conveyed that the pleasure she was enjoying had managed to cut deep enough into her psyche to utterly mutilate it. Throughout, she took no care to manage the cratered state of her asshole, nor the well of semi-solid sludge inches short of overflowing from the destroyed orifice, nor even the boy responsible for it.

Her only focus was squirting--aggressively and thoroughly.

Once ‘over’ the initial shock of her exclamation, Noat did not attempt to involve himself in Izelia’s suffering. Seated and straight faced, a derisive shake of his head proved the extent of his involvement with it.

Izelia’s animalistic self-destruction was not the root cause of this reaction; in the first place, displays such as this were hardly new to him.

As always, his discontentment lay within his reality:

Now, there could be no telling when Izelia would finally leave his home.


	2. The Freedom to Choose Incorrectly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As a result of Izelia's indiscretion, Noat is forced drag their illegal /ss/ relationship closer to the point of no return. Not only must he drag Izelia's virtually brain-dead frame from his home back to her own in the middle of the night, but he must do this knowing that he will be greeted by her husband upon arrival.
> 
> As I'm sure you can imagine, this leads to a number of nastily perverse consequences whose contents lessen the value of decades of Izelia's life in return for providing her with further opportunities to life the way her species ought:
> 
> Destroying themselves by reproducing with little boys (tm).

**SEPH & PRIORITIES**

When first Izelia and Noat began communicating with one another through PokeFindMe™, the subject of how the two of them would go about meeting with one another was among the first that they discussed.

Then, Izelia was unnecessarily forthcoming with the discrepancies between her profile and reality. Enamoured enough with her 7-year-old muse to reveal herself as a career business woman and a “happily” married mother of two after only a single video call, she inadvertently set the ‘bar’ that the two of them would be required to clear at a height that most children—intelligent or otherwise—were unlikely to approach without assistance.

Being a child both capable and brazen enough to seek out adult SEPH on a dating application notorious for facilitating wildly perverse relationships, Noat framed the facts that she set out as a set of reasonable challenges that the two of them would have to overcome in order to accomplish their mutual aim. After stressing a need for some amount of moderation and planning as a result of her circumstance, he asserted then that their situation was far from hopeless.

Within a week of this assertion, the details that Izelia outlined led to the first in what was to be an endless string of effective breakthroughs for the two of them.

As it turned out, the distance that separated the two of them physically and socially was exactly the same. Ordinarily uninterested and detached from his mother’s work, Izelia’s making mention of the name of her workplace resulted in Noat recalling that his mother worked for the exact same firm. After several days spent quietly sounding his mother for information, he found that a Pheromosa SEPH matching Izelia’s description had existed within her circle of work acquaintances for the preceding few years. Before making any plans for the future, he used this information to inform Izelia of the first week wherein his home could be used as a meeting place for the two of them.

Happily preoccupied with his discovery and the bouts of disgusting intercourse it facilitated, Noat’s complacency behind this breakthrough led Izelia to press their advantage even further. A resourceful woman in her own right, she began expressing interest in Noat’s mother’s family using her own household as subterfuge, and in doing so crafted what she believed to be a necessary amount of familiarity between their families.

In her mind, this much was perquisite for the two of them to carry out anything resembling a genuine relationship. No part of her wished to abandon the life that she had forged with her husband, but the instinct at the root of her adultery proved very…particular about the nature in which she was to carry it out.

Succinctly (and illogically), the crisis evoked within her by her age demanded that she function as Noat’s ‘girlfriend’ and spermdumpster simultaneously. Biologically smitten with his existence from the day of their first meeting onward, doing so quickly became the only means by which she could quiet the genetic degeneracy that had driven her past the point of no return in the first place.

Initially, she managed her new roles with the same grace and moderation that had facilitated her successes in life. With Noat’s help, most every stretch of time wherein the little boy’s house was empty—these coinciding with his mother travelling for work—was converted into a stretch of time wherein the two of them engaged in the perverse, one-sidedly degrading sex acts that they desired from one another. Similarly, the periods in-between these innumerable sex acts were made into unadulterated stints of the girlish doting that Izelia demanded of herself (much to Noat’s chagrin).

By limiting their meetings to these opportunities and making the most of them, the pair soon found that the barriers put up by Izelia’s life were not quite as towering as they had perceived them to be.

Interestingly, this realization induced two very different changes in the pair. Whereas Noat became more conscious of what consistent sexual contact with a female SEPH actually entailed (i.e physical and mental degeneration)—this in turn resulting in his displaying an impressive amount of moderation—Izelia began investing more and more of her free time into meeting with Noat (even in instances wherein doing so carried with it a certain amount of risk).

In this, the difference between them could be reduced to the difference between choice and necessity. In spite of his being a child open to and interested in the vile sexual conduct that humans once enjoyed with SEPH, Noat chose consistency over excess indulgence so as to ease his conscience’s whinging at his obviously ‘questionable’ behavior. Predisposed to mental degeneration and self-destructive behavior if sufficiently utilized by a human male, Izelia functioned as she did under the assumption that she had no choice. Within reason, there was no period too short or a meeting too risky for her to attempt to satisfy Noat with her presence, and in doing so satisfy herself.

Without the means or outright desire required to reject Izelia’s ingresses, Noat was quick to adopt a position of reproachful acceptance with regards to her actions. As these oversteps rarely resulted in anything more ‘severe’ than Izelia neglecting her family and the creation of grounds for a privy party to suspect something of her actions, doing so felt to him as the only way to make the best out of a less than ideal situation.

Perhaps appropriately, the complacency that he displayed eventually catalysed the occurrence of an ‘overstep’ far more severe in nature. After what was to be another ‘harmless’ weekend spent with one another, Izelia allowed her to become debilitated past her most recently defined limit. Rendered an utterly useless husk of her usual self at a juncture wherein she ought to have been driving herself back home to her family, the task of returning her to her domicile without creating undue suspicions as to her whereabouts (and what she had been doing within them) fell to Noat.

Being 7, his methods left much to be desired. While ultimately successful in his undertaking, the events that surrounded it were among some if the riskiest, most painstaking ventures he had selected for himself in the few years he had existed on earth…

-

**SUBURBIA—11PM**

Amidst the humidity and darkness of a summer night better spent indoors, Noat pressed himself through a stymied shuffle across the edge of an occupied driveway. Arms and upper body taken up in a pitiable attempt at dragging a significant weight up along the finished expanse alongside him, the task of moving from the fringes of this driveway up to the walkway adjacent to its peak was left in part to his legs, and in part to an individual whose aid he had enlisted via payment of an exorbitant ride sharing fee.

However sweaty and grating, their efforts brought him to his destination far faster than he could have managed on his own. Upon recognition of his arrival atop a familiar doorstep, he tightened his arms’ sandwiching of the weight at his side, and afterwards peaked behind its mass to address his paid aide as best he could.

Upon doing so, the golden yellow light illuminating the doorstep surrounding them presented the larger man as a frustrated, inordinately sweaty version of his former self. At the sight of this, words spilt from Noat’s throat as an excess of water might’ve burst through the base of a paper bag.

“I’m really sorry about this; she’s not usually this hard to carry.” he began, childish remorse enveloping his tone. “I think I should be ok here, though. I know it’s not much left 1000 on the back seat for you, too.”

To Noat’s surprise, the contents of his apology were received far better than he assumed they would be. By the end of his utterance, the scowl on the man’s face had loosened into an expression of reproachful curiosity, and the tightness in his musculature maintained solely for the purpose of shouldering the weight at his side was replaced by a fatigued looseness.

Were it not for the fact that these things coincided with him leaving the entirety of the weight’s mass on his shoulders, Noat would have regarded these transitions as the best ‘end’ to their companionship that he could have hoped for.

“Ay, thanks for looking out, ‘cuh. I don’t know why the fuck no 7-year-old be out here tryna drag an adult woman back to her place, but I also ain’t give a fuck.” the man replied. “Take it easy, ‘lil man. Good luck with…whatever the fuck this is.”

“Peace, nigga.”

This uttered, the man departed from his side of the weight he had transported and set off into a light-footed stride back across the driveway. In only a fraction of the time that he had spent assisting his customer, he returned to the running vehicle left at the mouth of the driveway, and afterwards peeled out of it leaving only the sound of tires grinding across a well-kept roadside in his wake.

Left to shoulder a weight that his growing frame could only barely manage, everything concerned with his driver’s departure went completely ignored by Noat’s psyche. The moment he was abandoned at the doorstep, all of his focus shifted towards inching himself from his position at its center up to one close enough for him to extend a hand towards its doorbell.

Here, he defied the screaming of his musculature one final time. Raising his right hand whilst supporting his burden with his left, he delivered his index finger into a brief depression against the doorbell set at the edge of the doorframe’s midsection.

Seconds later, the appearance of an individual out from behind the door coincided with a near-immediate removal of the weight held at his side. At last allowed to focus on something unconcerned with its transport, Noat responded to the event by recoiling into bent-over pant all-too-appropriate for the task he had completed.

Whilst invested in this, the individual responsible for his salvation addressed him in a voice as much grateful as it was confused and astonished.

“Woah, woah—come on, Izelia. You’re going to break the poor kid’s knees if you rest all of your weight on him like that.” he began, jovially. “Christ, sorry kiddo. You must’ve had a rough time getting her all the way up here by yourself.”

“Here—come on in. I’ll deal with her; go get yourself something to drink after you catch your breath—I’ll never hear the end of it from your parents if I send you back dehydrated.”

For as much as he’d have liked to ignore the suggestions placed by his savior in favor of a hunched-over wheeze at his doorstep, Noat’s disposition drew his wobbly frame upright the moment he was addressed.

Once upright, the sight of the individual suggested that he (Noat) acquiesce to his suggestions as well.

More than 7 feet tall and bloated with rippling, red-orange musculature tactfully covered underneath a white dress-shirt, adherence seemed to Noat as something that the Buzzwole SEPH’s presence demanded implicitly.

While familiar with the man, standing ahead of him never failed to magnify the differences between their species to awe-inspiring extremes. At the same time, however, his calm admonishments carried with them a parental weight that the youthful instincts within him were prone to gravitate towards.

Under the weight of these pressures, Noat followed the directions given to him just as any other child would have. Stepping inward in silence, he waited for the Buzzswole to depart with Izelia before shutting and locking the door to their home behind him. This done, he unlaced his custom red-black hightops like that nigga Ash Ketchum is wearing in the current season of Pokemon but smaller since home boy is 7, slipped them off of his feet, and made off towards the estate’s sizeable kitchen wearing only his socks.

Ordinarily, finding a particular room within the lavish house was not a task he’d have attempted without guidance. Despite having visited the location with his mother on a handful of occasions, the occasions themselves were typically structured to utilize the first floor of the estate and its backyard over all of the other locations that it contained. If not for the fact that the kitchen was contained within the former, losing himself within the first floor’s living room or inadvertently wandering into one of supply rooms adjacent to it was as likely a blunder for him as it might’ve been for a ‘fresher’ guest.

Already familiar with a number of routes leading into his destination, Noat opted to traverse the one he deemed to be the most scenic. After taking a left from the lobby, he quietly pattered through a hallway littered on both sides with family photographs. Some suspended across its walls and others propped up atop decorative tables, their number and arrangement matched what could be considered appropriate for a sufficiently “happy” family.

Despite what his position may’ve implied, Noat’s decision to progress through the hallway was unrelated to his involvement with the disgusting truth that Izelia had inserted in her family’s core. Prone to forgetting information that he deemed unimportant, he did so solely to refresh his memory as to which one of Izelia’s children had texted her a day prior. As he walked, he drudged what little he remembered about the chain of text messages to the forefront of his mind, and attempted to apply these memories to one of the lithe youths oft pictured alongside Izelia and her husband.

It was not until his arrival near the end of the hallway that a photograph matching his idea of the child responsible for the text messages jumped out at him. Depicted within a larger-than-average portrait photograph set more recently than any of the others was a female Nihelgo SEPH adorned by a graduation cap and gown.

At the sight of her, Noat imagined a studious young woman far more attached to her family than was appropriate for her age. No concrete basis existed for his attribution of these traits, but throughout the seconds that he stared at the photograph, he had no difficulty imagining her as the individual who had spoken to Izelia.

Soon after arriving at this conclusion, a flare of frustration within him pushed him out of the hallway entirely. Whilst rounding the corner into the kitchen, its boil within him led a fraction of its heat to escape his frame in the form of a verbalization.

“She’s just that fucking stupid, huh? She has kids like that, but she can’t stop herself from rotting her brain the way she is.” he exhaled. “Being a SEPH is no excuse. She knows exactly what she has—it’s just not valuable enough to her. Not that it has anything to do with me, I guess...”

Only a step into the kitchen, Noat shrugged off his frustrations as misplaced. This done, he swallowed his experience as confirmation for something he had long since recognized, and at last completed his ingress through the house with a stride up to its refrigerator. On arrival, he peeled its right door open and pushed himself up onto his tiptoes to retrieve a pitcher of filtered water from its primary shelf.

Before he could set off in search of a glass, the sound of tripod-like footsteps thudding against a hardwood floor momentarily shifted his attention back towards the hallway he had stepped out from.

Evidently, his alone time within the kitchen would soon be coming to an end. As quickly as he turned his attention back to the task of finding a glass, the arrival of the house’s towering owner within the kitchen still came well before he could actually begin drinking.

At the sight of him, Noat raised his right hand to wave boyishly at the man before dumping the ‘lead’ position in their inevitable conversation onto him by tipping his glass against his lips.

Unbeknownst to him, his deliberate abandonment of this responsibility was unnecessary.

Whether he spoke out or not, the Buzzwole had intended to speak out right from the moment he entered the kitchen.

“Oh, alright, you’re drinking. Perfect, perfect—now I can apologize properly.” he began, non-descript facial features somehow projecting a nervous grin. “Izelia was supposed to be the one bringing you over here, but it looks like it ended up being the other way around. I thought this might happen when she said the connecting flight from her conference got delayed, but again, I’d have never ok-ed her coming to pick you up if I knew she was going to get plastered beforehand. With the amount of dried blood there was under her nose, it’s a miracle that—ah, never mind, you don’t need to hear this.”

Behind this utterance, the Buzzwole extended all four of his hands as if tabling a plea towards an individual unlikely to accept any sort of negotiation.

“What I’m trying to get at is that I want this to be our secret, kiddo. Your mom and I haven’t been on the greatest terms since…well, ever. Izelia probably shouldn’t have been drinking, but that doesn’t matter. If it gets back to your mom that you had to go through all of this because of me, Izelia might end up suffering for it at her job.” he explained. “You’ve always come off as pretty clever for your age, so I don’t think I need to explain what I mean when I say that.”

“So, whaddya say? Can you cut an old guy some slack?”

Were Noat capable of smiling and drinking at the same time, the Buzzwole’s explanatory plea bargain was likely to have pushed him to do exactly this. That he’d so easily attribute his wife’s dishevelled state to alcohol and the lateness of their arrival to a child’s orchestration represented to him an extreme simplification of the tasks that remained for him.

Never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Noat responded to his suggestions as his position dictated. Pulling his glass out of contact with his lips, he nodded his head amidst the production of a boyish chuckle reticent of both amusement and understanding.

“It’s okay, Mr. Unzano. Ms. Izelia was more sleepy than drunk I think, so it wasn’t like she made things really hard for me.” he replied, grinning. “Mom’s kinda hard for me to deal with sometimes, too. I like you and Ms. Izelia a lot, so I’m okay with that—if anyone asks we can just say that everything went the way it was supposed to.”

Whilst presenting as a child completely indifferent to whatever ‘struggle’ he had endured, Noat kept watch for signs of relief from Unzano. When his words drew the massive male into a state of relieved looseness, he faked another swig of water from his glass so as to bridge his first few utterances to his next.

“Anyway, is Ms. Izelia actually okay? She seemed like she was awake while I was carrying her—I just hope she didn’t get worse while you were helping her get to bed or anything...”

As if cued several minutes in advance, these words prompted Unzano to snap the fingers of two of his four hands in recognition of an almost-forgotten thought.

“Ha, it’s funny that you mention that. Half of the reason I came to find you so quickly was because Izelia sent me off to grab you.” he replied, chuckling. “Knowing her, she’s probably embarrassed about this whole situation and wants to make sure she apologizes to you properly. I didn’t really know how you were going to respond to this whole thing, but now that we’ve spoken, you should probably go and see her once you finish with your water.”

“As much as I love her, Izelia can never really tell with people—kids especially. It’s why she tries to talk to the kids so much; she just really wants to know them without making them feel like she’s trying to dig too deep into their lives.”

“Shit, I’m rambling. Don’t mind me, kiddo—you just finish your water and go up there and show her what a nice little guy you are, alright?”

Yet again, the words that the monolithic male spewed from his mouthless skull filled Noat with a contentment so severe that it almost began bleeding through his face. Whilst digesting his husband-like anecdotes along with the core of his response, he hurriedly gulped down the remainder of his water.

Then, after placing his glass in the sink behind him, he set off—

This without stopping to confirm or deny the ascription so gratefully handed down to him by the husband of the woman he had splattered countless loads of semen into hours prior.

**-**

**UBER EATS’ SERVICE FEE HEAD ASS**

Presented with a boy willing to drag a 6-foot female SEPH frame unfairly gifted with feminine fat and buoyant breast flesh across a city for the express purpose of hiding her infidelity from her husband, one could be forgiven for describing the boy in question as stupid.

Similarly, upon presentation with a boy willing to feign intimacy with said female SEPH’s husband and enter into a childish bargain with him in hopes that the female SEPH regained enough consciousness throughout their journey to create a useable opportunity for him, one could be forgiven for describing the boy as idealistic.

Circumstances aside, Noat believed himself to be neither stupid nor idealistic. Immediately before embarking on his quest to deliver Izelia to her home, his experience handling the massive woman and his familiarity with her body assured him of two things:

  1. Given an additional hour or so of recuperation, Izelia would regain a semblance of herself.



  1. Upon recognizing what had come to pass throughout her incapacitation, her first actions would be those of recompense towards him and satisfaction towards herself.



By carrying these assurances within the back of his mind all throughout his journey, the assault that Izelia launched on his frame right as he slipped behind the door to her marital bedroom did not come as a surprise to him. Having braced his frame in preparation from the moment her husband made mention of her desire to ‘apologize’ to him, the suddenness of the event served no further purpose than an immediate plunging of his frame into a state of grinning sexual arousal.

Per usual, his ability to think and act went unaffected by this descent. A split second after his entrance, Noat found Izelia propped up on bent knees atop the floor space to the left side of her bed (i.e directly ahead of him). H-cup breasts compressed into a black tanktop whose cups encapsulated their frontal mass at the expensive displaying a torso’s width of puffy, ivory white cleavage to the air; hips and crotch gilded by a similarly-colored garment bloated at its front by pudgy cuntlips and at its back by pert, thigh-suffocating beach balls of fat; next to nothing about her appearance then seemed to him as lesser than what she presented when actually attempting whorishness.

Without warning, this Izelia snapped inward to embrace his frame up into the sex-scented fat of her ridiculous bust, and used the alien length of her tongue and the vast excess of digestive fluid produced within her gullet to hungrily kiss and slurp at the left side of his mouth and lower cheek in tandem. Stymied solely by her nostrils’ progress inundation with his scent, her monstrous ‘kiss’ smoothly transitioned into a replacement of his frame atop the ground, and a descent back down to her knees directly ahead of him.

Beyond this point, Noat wasted no time in exposing himself. Dragging his shorts downward out of contact with his hips, he effortlessly uncoiled a still-fattening log of freshly sex-greased and mildly sex-reddened cockflesh into the airspace directly ahead of Izelia’s face.

Throughout the seconds that followed, he was wordless. Content to maintain his grasp on his stinking erection until the banana-curved loaf rose up to a dead on point at Izelia’s mouth, he watched and waited for Izelia’s to slip her tongue out of her mouth, and afterwards drive her skull inwards to plant the scent glands hidden at her face’s center straight up into contact with the semen-scented bloat of his glans.

At this, he produced an order reserved for the very worst form of ‘intercourse’ that the two of them could share with one another.

“Pheromosa, use **SWALLOW**.”

As soon as these words left his lips, Izelia adjusted their positions relative to one another with the intention of ‘satisfying’ the command that she had been given in as satisfying a manner as possible. In sequence, a clasping of her pincers to Noat’s hips was followed by an abrasive depression of his back down along the floor space behind him.

Following his settlement, she descended as well. First parting her legs to either side of his juvenile torso, she subsequently turned her back towards the floor spread youth, and finally plunged her skull downwards towards the engorged bloat of his erection. As she went, she spread her legs further and further outward in mimicry of tripod to keep her midsection and crotch out of contact with his upper body, and depressed her ‘hands’ downward until their impression against the flesh of his thighs provided a ‘brace’ for her upper body.

When finally her alien-maw was brought to a position directly above his glans (a height that left the massive bloat of her breasts partly mushed against his midsection and upper crotch), she skewered herself downward. Spreading her mouth as wide as she could manage whilst at the same time releasing her spittle-drenched tongue to the open air, the spike that she produced cleanly depressed several inches of his cock into her mouth and throat in the blink of an eye.

She did not stop here, either. Buoyed by the rank flavors reintroduced to her taste buds and the degenerate fulfillment that accompanied spreading her gullet with Noat’s cock, she elongated her dive until every inch of his cock was squeezed into envelopment by one of her throat or esophagus.

On completion of this task, she set about completing the command that she had been given. With the entirety of his cock hilted into a neck-bloating depression within the convulsing depths of her throat, she began dragging her skull up and down along her trainer’s erection with a reckless abandon.

These were the events that unfolded throughout Noat’s initial minutes within Izelia’s bedroom. Neither wholly content nor discontent with how his evening had played out, Noat made no attempts at injecting himself into the event until the monstrous texture of her esophagus and the famished depravity of her throating metronome had squeezed a sufficient amount of stimulation into his cock.

At this, he spoke, and afterwards acted.

“So this is how bad it’s gotten, huh?” he suggested, voice both airy and reproachful. “I knew that this might happen before I came, but I didn’t think you’d go for something like this right after waking up. Talk about gross.”

Amidst his address, Noat raised his upper body out of contact with the ground just far enough for him to gaze down at Izelia’s skull as she pumped the meat of his erection in and out of her cock-spread gullet.

Though the vantage point offered little in the way of ‘face to face’ discourse with her, it nevertheless satisfied his desired to speak at her skull as opposed to the drooling mound of cuntflesh between her legs

“Your husband; those kids you have in all of those pictures downstairs; they all would’ve ended up finding out what a braindead slab of onahole-material you’re turning into if I didn’t somehow manage to get you back here.” he continued, cooly. “And yet, you’re risking it all again. All you had to do was pretend to be asleep when I came in here. Actually—we could’ve faked a conversation and that would’ve worked just as well.”

“But that wouldn’t have been good enough for an insatiable sow like you, right? Using every possible opportunity you get to fuck yourself stupid on my cock is the only thing you know how to do anymore.”

“You don’t even remember that conversation we had a couple days ago, do you?” whilst a sudden uptick in tonal incredulity presented this question as genuine, the point at which he produced it framed the utterance as a statement of fact. “No, of course you don’t. These days, you can’t retain anything that doesn’t have something to do with staining your insides with stinking cockjuice. It’s either that, or you’re retaining it and ignoring it because having your brain cells destroyed by my cock is just that much more enjoyable to you.”

Made to grin dryly at his own deductions, Noat followed up his latest utterance with a languid sprawling of his frame back down from whence it came, and a statement far less ‘invested’ than those he had produced thus far.

“Oh well, doesn’t matter. If you want to ruin your life, go ahead; I’m still going to use you to get off either way.” he spat.

“And I’m not going to make it easy for you, either.”

Acute as her attunement to Noat had become, Izelia failed to take anything of significance away from his chastisement. In the midst of drilling her mouth in and out of contact with the slop-mired root of his erection and hungrily snorting the humid musk that emanated from the swollen testicles beneath it, her debilitated psyche prioritized an effective milking of his member over the self-reflection and negative affect that his words ought’ve evoked.

It was not as though she did not understand the words that were spoken to her. From the beginning of his address to its end, a significant fraction of her attention had been devoted to its digestion. Nevertheless, the command that she had been given dictated that the mental faculties required for her to feel emotions instead be devoted to the task of messily garrotting the meat of Noat’s shaft with her esophagus flesh.

If detrimental for the health of her grey-matter, the metronome that Izelia produced by virtue of these ‘mental faculties’ was one that any sex-addled SEPH was certain to envy. After her initial hilt of her face down along his cock, she reeled the studded, arousal-fattened texture of her esophagus back upwards along his length’s natural curvature. Manipulating the meat of her gullet into the production of vein-smothering convulsions and localized compressions of the cock inches that passed through it, her maw’s arrival near the midsection of the turgid pole was supplemented by an immediate, meat-smothering plunge of her skull straight back across the path that it had traversed.

Whilst executed at a speed that obscured most of its qualities from perception, no part of this depression was commonplace. Throughout the plunge, Izelia tightened the confines of her esophagus as a human might clench a fist. Having already put a sufficient amount of depressive force into her plunge, the ‘effect’ wrought from this was the creation of a pressurized orifice of congealed flesh for Noat’s erection. Thus, in spite of her returning her face to the rugged mess of blood vessels and cockflesh in record time, her doing so required that over half of his cock be ground through a claustrophobic canal of quivering, unforgivably tight esophagus flesh. For every inch that was pressed through the lubrication-muddied pipe, the pre-inflated width of her neck was fattened wider whilst the congealed meat within it smothered Noat’s cock with a force sufficient to pinch the finger-thick veins outlining its face into a state of writhing convulsion.

When finally the entirety of Noat’s cock was returned to its rightful inundation of her digestive tract, Izelia applied herself further. Having thus allowed the otherworldly bloat of her tongue to sit outside of her mouth and cushion the ingress (and retraction) of cockflesh through its midst, the completion of her first pump saw her loop the organ’s bloat around as much of his erection as possible. Without drawing her cheeks off of Noat’s crotch (or for that matter, separating her nostrils from access to the virile stink produced by her tiny suitor’s gurgling testicles), she impressed the tip of her tongue to its underside’s root, then spiraled her organ’s meat up along its trunk as though it constituted a second orifice.

Set, she resumed her throating metronome in earnest. Indifferent to the increased outflow of cloudy gullet-juice from her throat-pussy’s interior, she wrenched her skull (and the coiling of her tongue) back up along Noat’s member, then skewered herself back down deep enough to smother the upper fringes of his sac against the center of her face to the tune of a sloppy *GLORP!*.

Were it not for Noat commanding her to ‘ _SWALLOW’_ , the nuance and efficiency maintained by her cock-starved bobbing wouldn’t have been possible. At the cost of a cognitive strain significant enough to renew a heady outflow of blood from her left nostril whilst at the same time rendering her incapable of feeling anything comparable to guilt or remorse, she acquired the ability to manipulate herself as one of her ancestors might’ve:

As braindead livestock bred for pleasure, reproduction, and disposal.

Somehow, though, Izelia was not denied access to her sense of self as a result. Minutes into the guttural pumping of her skull, she remained no less aware of herself than she had been upon awakening within her marital bed minutes prior.

Save her inability to feel certain emotions and a conscription of her psyche to the task of slurping chunked cockjuice into her stomach, nothing had changed within her—

_She_ was the one who was applying her innards as a masturbation toy for Noat’s member.

_She_ was the one who smearing her cheeks with the cock-churned throatslop discharged from her gullet each time she reeled it up along his member.

_She_ was the one who chose to snort hearty bursts of sex saturated cockmusk up into her sinuses alongside the throat-churned mucus that drained down from her right nostril…

No amount of predisposition or cognitive programming could absolve her of these things. Yet, in spite of her recognizing that this made her every bit the negligent animal that her suitor believed her to be, she made no attempts at mitigating her behaviour.

Then and there, satisfying Noat—satisfying herself—was more important to her than anything else…

Even the decency of the bedroom wherein her children had been conceived.

If only in part, the bestial disregard that Izelia displayed towards anything and everything unrelated to his cock was that which motivated Noat to make the completion of her task more difficult. After recognizing that she had spent the entirety of his ‘speech’ towards her perfecting a throating metronome for his cock, the semen compiled within the root of his crotch and the vindictive ambivalence her actions evoked again drew his back up and off of the flooring beneath him. Partly upright, he reached down towards Izelia’s skull with his left hand before stopping its approach short at an envelopment of the left side of her neck.

With the oft-bloated tube in his grasp, he used the position that Izelia had assumed against her. Without warning, he bent his left leg inward such that the tips of his toes were left in contact with the ground, and utilized the leverage he gained from doing so to stab his crotch upwards. Executed whilst Izelia’s throat-cunt sat affixed to the top half of his member, his motions immediately depressed the full length of his cock back down to a pleasurable hilt within her gullet.

This time, however, the stimulation that he derived from the happening was complimented by efforts of his own. Throughout his shaft’s lubricant-displacing surge, Noat tightened his grasp on Izelia’s neck to further ‘tighten’ the orifice he was burying himself into with the face of his palm. At the same time, he pushed the impression of his crotch against Izelia’s face an inch or so deeper by pushing off of the tips of his toes, and maintained his new depth via contracting the musculature of his leg.

These increases in stimulation were soon joined by others that Noat hadn’t planned for. Likely as a result of the sudden increase in his thrusts’ depth, a burst of convulsion through Izelia’s esophagus preceded an explosion of semen-infused throatslop out from both her mouth and the obscured nostrils leaking at her face’s center. Heated and thickened by its infusion with sexual lubricant(s), the body-temperature slime’s discharge applied a soothing warmth to the root of his crotch whilst segmented blankets of the substance applied the same across the still-enveloped length of his cock. As complimented by the momentary upturn in tightness that Izelia’s esophagus endured, the happening was perceived by Noat as a welcomed ‘shock’ to his sexualized system.

In response to it, Noat felt compelled to immediately attempt acquiring more pleasure for himself at Izelia’s expense. To this end, he relaxed the contraction of his leg musculature, then dragged his length back through her pressurized phallus-pipe behind haggard splutters of the same milky-white nut Izelia had regurgitated against his crotch.

In lieu of outright stimulation, his doing so created an opportunity for him to acquire satisfaction in the form of disparagement.

“Wow, that’s no good. I told you to swallow, not spew out all that aged dickjuice in your stomach back onto my cock.” he exhaled, voice impressively indifferent in spite of his ‘complaints’. “Now you’re going to end up making even nastier noises as your insides drain my cock. You’re probably going to end up as an even more disgusting mess while you’re at it, too.”

“Oh, but that’s right: you don’t care about any of that shit, do you? If your husband were to walk in and see your face like this, you’d just bury your nose into my sac like the retard you are and squirt until you passed out.” he continued.

“Sorry, I forgot—I’ll go ahead and continue.”

Upon reeling a fourth of his member back through her innards, Noat immediately slotted himself straight back down to a draining hilt within her esophagus. Then, behind a degradingly slop-sodden *PLAPP* induced as his muck-splattered crotch was bunted up against her cheeks, he committed himself to repeatedly dragging and skewering his member up and down through the meat of her esophagus at a pace that regularly swung his testicles up into contact with the center of her face.

Unlike the thrusts that had preceded them, these were rooted solely in remorselessness. By virtue of his only drawing a fraction of his cock out from her innards’ grasp at a time, the majority of his erection persisted in its neck-reddened inundation of her digestive tract at all times. Similarly, the thrusts he delivered following each of these sputtering retractions enjoyed marked increases in invasive force as a result of his only needing to apply himself to re-hilting one especially mess-splattered fraction of his shaft. Beyond this point, all of the violent aggression produced between his crotch and lower body musculature served only to intensify his shaft’s skewering through the scalding tube’s confines.

While secondary to Noat’s aim, the quality of these thrusts took a significant toll on Izelia’s ability to ‘keep up’ as well. Alongside the expulsion of muffled coos of pleasure from her throat and the projection of a prolonged chain of noises mixed between *GLORPS* from her esophagus and *SPLATCH*(s) from her face came the conduction of tremors throughout the musculature of her lower body. Worsened for each and every vicious depression of phallus meat into and out from her facecunt, the frequency at which they occurred and the duration for which they were maintained eventually ‘bottomed out’ into the same consequence endured time and time again by musk-addled SEPH.

After an especially punishing thrust, her crotch burst. Whilst her lower body was drawn taut, heavy eruptions of dense, translucent cuntslime splattered out of her lower lips in the form of exaggerated arcs and sputters. Uniformly steaming and abnormally thick in quality, their discharge subjected the fabric of Noat’s t-shirt to a repeated dousing with a substance too thick for its threads to absorb, and otherwise left the floor space to either side of his frame decorated with streaks of slime far too ‘telling’ for the naked eye to ignore.

Inexplicably, this event was to Noat one expression of whorishness too many. After punching and holding his crotch up against Izelia’s face in a manner more aggressive than any of his prior thrusts, he brought his gutting of her throat to an end well ahead of his initial schedule. Utilizing his grasp on her neck and his control over his crotch in tandem, he painstakingly unplugged his member from her gullet behind a disgusting flourish of semen and throatslop, and subsequently shoved her wobbling upper body to the side of his crotch.

This done, he resolved the situation in a manner befitting his status as a ‘Pokemon Trainer’.

“Guess I shouldn’t be surprised.” he muttered, indifference and frustration lining his tone. “Pheromosa, use **RECOVER**. After that, **CALM MIND**.”

Knowledgeable even in times of frustration, Noat produced a combination of commands whose contents would see Izelia utilize her innate abilities for her own benefit.

Ordinarily, stacking commands in this manner was a sure-fire means of destroying the functionality of a female SEPH’s mind faster than their predispositions could lead them to destroy themselves. In this case, however, the damage induced by their combination was to be measured by the consequences of the commands themselves—assuming he had recalled them correctly.

Sure enough, these words restored Izelia to a state of function that she hadn’t maintained for nearly a day in only a handful of seconds. In sequence, the spluttering of her cunt ceased, her musculature reacquired its natural tension, and the outflow of blood from her left nostril thickened to its most noticeable volume yet.

Moments later, she sprang to her feet. Upright, she plunged the bottom portion of her right arm’s pincer underneath the syrup-drenched face of her panties to drag the garment off of her womanhood, and afterwards descended back down to a mid-height, ‘M’-shaped squat that set her lower lips directly above Noat’s member.

Following a brief bracing of her left pincer against the grime-plastered root of her suitor’s length, she descended. Seemingly prepared for what the act would entail, she dropped her hips and rear in sequence to plunge her lower lips into impalement atop the mucus-glazed girth of Noat’s cock. Spurred on by a combination of gravity and the weight of the fat packed into her ass, her descent’s initiation resulted in a clean, midsection-bloating consumption of his shaft into the stifling gooiness and humidity of her cunt, and a nauseating impression of his glans up against the pudgy donut of cervix flesh at its end.

No useless sputtering nor feral squealing followed this event. Buoyed by the effect of the moves she had used on herself, she seamlessly denied her frame the stupefied tremble that her cunt suggested for it in favor of lowering her upper body down near to contact with Noat’s torso. Knowing that the length of her frame relative to his own would eventually smother her breasts against his face if she progressed too far, she stopped herself at a height that created a ‘useable’ angle between her hips and rear whilst at the same time allowing her to rest her pincers atop her kneecaps.

At this depth, Noat’s face remained visible to her, and her lower body was set into a position at which the slobbering puffiness of her cunt could be bounced along the girth of his cock with ease.

Best of all, they provided her with an angle from which she could address Noat that combined intimacy with apparent dedication to her purpose.

Believing herself to have made the most of her gifts, she presented her efforts alongside an apology more genuine than the skewering of her cunt suggested to be possible for her.

“I’m sorry. I’msorryI’msorryI’msorry. I wasn’t thinking straight and then my head really started to hurt and then I couldn’t think about anything at all! I just wanted you to use me until I was sure you were satisfied, but my body ended up liking it too much…” she hissed, quietly.

“I’m sorry I made you work so hard; that’s not what a good girlfriend is supposed to do. I-It’s not that I can’t handle this kind of thing, I just lose track of it sometimes…”

“Really, I’m so, so sorry. You have to let me make it up to you, okay I know this doesn’t even come close, but let me start with this—I’m the one who made it happen. The least I can do is make sure you end up leaving her with your balls empty, right ♥?”

Silent and still throughout Izelia’s recovery and unresponsive in the face of the sudden depression of her puffy cunt along the pleasure-starved girth of his cock, the whispered apologies that she breathed out into the open coincided with Noat’s first ‘response’ to her behaviour in minutes.

In place of speech, he acted. Thus far spared from carrying the full weight of Izelia’s lower body atop his crotch, he speared his crotch upwards against the slimy squishiness of her cunt face, and extended his right hand down into a firm, fat-accentuating envelopment of her right hip’s curvature.

From these things he earned a stifled, eye-fluttering coo from Izelia, and an opportunity to speak far more potent than the one that the massive woman had presented to him.

“Are you fucking insane? Your brain hasn’t been working properly for 5 minutes and the first thing that you suggest is taking a load into your womb?” Noat suggested, grinning. “I’m not really surprised or anything, but your body does have limits—SEPH weren’t made to do what you’re doing and survive forever. Your capacity for fucking yourself stupid should be a bit better thanks to the moves I picked, but if feeling getting cum spewed into your womb ends up pushing you past that, you’d end up squirting and convulsing like a **fucking pig** on the floor of your own bedroom.”

“With your husband here, I kinda couldn’t do anything about it, either. Are you sure you want to risk that?”

Whilst intended as a hateful reminder as to the limitations of SEPH, Izelia derived hints genuine concern from Noat’s address as well. Those unfamiliar with the boy may’ve mistaken these hints as indifference, but the time she had spent with him at his very worst had taught her to differentiate his warnings from his malice.

In accordance with the gravity of her circumstance, she spoke with her frame well before she did so with her lips. As soon as he finished speaking, she drew her hips upwards to draw his cock from out of its skewering of her cervix, then curled them inwards amidst dropping the torso-warming weight of her buttocks back down to a *PLAPP*-inducing collision with the exterior of his thighs and crotch.

For the second time in several minutes, the effectiveness with which her inner walls were parted failed to debilitate her frame into stillness. Though the half-length drag-and-plunge that she managed ground writhing cockveins against the congested bloat of her canal’s interior prior to reproducing a gutting punch of swollen glans flesh up against the face of her cervix, Izelia willed herself past the stimulation that these things offered with the intention of impressing her shift in intent onto Noat.

Following a final reaffirmation of her pincers’ settlement atop her kneecaps, she engaged her hips and thighs in the execution of a feverish, short-length bounce of her cunt’s lust-clogged depths along the increasingly-rigid fleshspire she had punched into herself. Prioritizing speed and contact over depth, sculpting her motions in this manner left her with the mental resources required for indulgence in the toxic stimulation fucked through her spine, and at the same time facilitated a steady, masturbatory stroking of her suitor’s length.

This done, the sole hurdle that remained between her and her goal was a projection of her voice over the sloppy thudding of her crotch against Noat’s cockroot and the splatter of her feminine lubrication across his groin.

“I can do it—I promise.” beginning flatly and clearly, the arousal ignited within her uterus failed to alter her latest utterance in the slightest. “Y-You’re going to cum pretty soon I think, so I won’t have to endure that much. You can push every drop of rancid dickmilk you have inside your balls right inside my womb just like always.”

“You might think I don’t have to do this, but I do. If I can’t look after you the same way I look after my family, there’s no point to any of this…”

“Because you’re my family too ♥ .”

At the behest of her innards, Izelia spent the full duration of her utterance accelerating her bouncing metronome. Intensifying the rate at which her cervix was pummelled amidst squeezing a monstrous spire of underage cockflesh through her pressurized canal soon proved a task that her frame required additional support for (support set well beyond its reach), but she did not allow this to stop her. Brushing off her eyes’ lidding in accommodation of her first orgasm and the stifling of her crotch’s motion by the continued discharge of cuntsyrup from her folds, she continued slamming her rear in and out of contact with Noat’s crotch with no signs of stopping—

Just as she had promised she would.

“See? I c-can mean it when I try, so you can cum as much as you want. I-I won’t make a mess of myself, and I won’t make things more difficult for you, either.” she assured. “E-Even if I **fucking die** , I’m going to make sure I do this right. Y-You don’t have to worry about anything else; just focus on enjoying your stupid SEPH meat toilet until you can seed her disgusting dumpster womb with your nut ♥ .”

His face did not show it, but these words left Noat without reason to doubt Izelia’s perspective. Albeit briefly, they also tempted him to begin reciprocating her thrusts with his own, and in doing so accelerate his seconds-off release into occurrence that much faster.

For as much as he wished to give in to this temptation, his circumstance suggested that he do otherwise.

At the same moment that the pressure within his crotch was intensified to the point of impending explosion by the bestial scrubbing of Izelia’s folds and the appetizing impacts of her assflesh against his crotch, a form of stimuli both deflating and worrisome was plunged into his core through his ears.

Noise had appeared within the first floor of the house—

Not just any noise, but one indicative of movements and intentions that threatened to make a mistake out of all that had occurred within the bedroom in one fell swoop…

-

**CHOOSING LOSS**

Confrontation with seemingly hopeless circumstances were among those that Noat dealt with best. No part of him enjoyed encountering difficulty throughout his daily life, but the satisfaction he earned from navigating difficulty and ultimately obtaining something that he desired by doing so had trained him to manage these encounters with a poise uncanny amongst his elementary-school-aged peers.

Consequentially, these circumstances found him far more easily than they did others. In scenarios wherein retreat or acquiescence were presented as the conventional response to a problem, he often fashioned for himself a third option that tread a path of extreme resistance; not for pride or personal gain, but solely as a result of his unwillingness to deny the path’s existence.

For better or for worse, his willingness to seek out these paths proved the deciding factor in his indulging himself in a satisfying orgasm at the very same moment his ears caught the faintest hints of sound from the ground floor of Izelia’s home. Rendered no less aware of the noise’s meaning than he would’ve been without the numbing sexual euphoria that had seeped into his brain, he nevertheless prioritized his release over responding to it.

Predisposed towards risk or no, the quality of his release was such that most any male would’ve done the same. Following the final upward thrust he produced with his crotch—this one produced midway through what was to be another sweat-greased plunge of Izelia’s rear against his crotch—a thread of hours-congealed cock juice as thick as his thumb was wide exploded up through a urethra-fattening wriggle through his length. Glans compressed against the battered exterior of Izelia’s dilated cervix only seconds prior, its explosion from the tip of his cock resulted in a great deal of the glutted substance’s volume jetting through a pressurized spurt up into the already-semen basted confines of her uterus. Separately, what amounts of the strand proved too dense and gelatinous to be slurped up into her babymaker warmed the pocket of cuntflesh nearest her cervix via the formation of a gross ‘clog’ built around his glans’ bloat, and in doing so subjected the meat of her vaginal canal to the livid squirming of the sperm that it contained at around the same point in time her womb was exposed to it.

Alone, these things validated his ‘investment’ in his release only seconds into its duration. Far thicker and repulsively nutrient-packed than reproductive fluid ought’ve been, the release of the dingy, yellow-white slop built up in his balls throughout the preceding half-hour further numbed Noat’s sense of self whilst at the same time injecting reproductive satisfaction into the core of his brain. Each fraction of the lumpy, semi-solid curd strand that Izelia’s cervix drank down was a fraction that had pleasantly scalded the inside of his member seconds prior, and each one that didn’t proved itself to be a loose, clump-prone sludge better suited to the task of warming the squirming depths of Izelia’s vaginal canal.

And it was only the first. One after another, bulbous threads of the same off-white slurry were blasted through his length into congestive splatters against the roof of Izelia’s uterus. No one any less glutted than the last, the speed at which they were released and the layers of muck that they introduced into the SEPH’s partly-stuffed babysac resulted in the immediate production of digestive *GLORPS* and *GLRPS* on par with what one’s ears might derived from sewage’s injection through a funnel—this solely by virtual of their quality.

For several unadulterated seconds, even Noat lay unable to reject the pleasure induced from their release. Some part of his mind remained attached to the reality of his situation, but a much larger fraction was content to succumb to the bliss it had achieved.

While without her youthful suitor’s predilection for difficulty, the bloating of Izelia’s womb resulted in her attentions being turned towards the present.

Like Noat, the sound that had emanated from the ground floor of the house had reached her just slightly before the boy’s orgasm had began in earnest. More so fearful of what the noise might amount to than challenged by its existence, the volume of cockjuice splattered into her womb and the vehement squirming of the sperm cells that it contained had thus far prevented her from taking any sort of preventative action towards them.

Still under the influence of the **‘CALM MIND’** command she had been given several minutes prior, the progressive bloating of her womb nevertheless functioned as a much needed wakeup call. At the behest of her increasingly-semen laden womb, the organ’s acquiring a veritable basin of semi-solid cockjuice prompted her to ‘contribute’ to Noat’s release as best she could.

Before anything else, she prepared for its end. Brandishing her left pincer, she used the jittery appendage to drag the breast-engorged fabric of her tanktop up into contact with her face, and thereafter set about wiping as much of the slop, mucus, and blood smeared to it onto its exterior.

Upon completion of this task (specifically its execution to an extent that left a lone strand of black pubic hair pasted to the right corner of her mouth), she turned her attention to Noat. Painfully aware of the fact that the ropes of semen that continually leapt from his member had yet to lose any of their initial girth or length, she took to swirling her hips around the throbbing erection’s girth whilst at the same time deepening his glans’ impression against her cervix with a firm downward stamp of her crotch.

In doing so, the manner in which Noat’s length spewed its noisome strands of jizz was altered to prioritize speed over comfort. By rolling her hips in wide, phallus-garroting circles without once halting in submission to the organ-bloating excess of nut growing within her babymaker, the semen strands that escaped his length were elongated, and the rate at which they were released was accelerated to the point at which the guttural gulping noises that regularly sounded out from her midsection became a seemingly permanent fixture within the airspace of the bedroom.

Though largely overcome by the continual compaction of sperm-riddled nut strands within her core, Izelia maintained her ministrations until the size of the Noat’s semen strands were reduced to portly wads. With this, she mustered what remained of her supplemented mental resources to direct an expression of urgency down at her tiny partner.

In return, she received from him an expression that suggested that all was well. Largely drained of the semen that he had hoped to rid himself of, a renewed Noat raised both of his hands up into contact with Izelia’s hips, and afterwards began peeling his cock downwards and outwards. With neither the required strength nor leverage to accomplish a smooth extraction of his cock from Izelia’s folds, he purposed these motions as a prompt for the massive SEPH to invest whatever remained of her physical abilities into following along.

Just as Izelia had been rewarded for efforts, so too did he acquire the behavior that he sought from his massive muse. Albeit hurriedly and clumsily, Izelia raised crotch up and out of contact with his own amidst the repeated regurgitation of discolored backdrafts of semen from her cunt. Eyes lidded and frame trembling throughout, the popping of his languid glans from the mouth of her canal very nearly resulted in her toppling over.

But she didn’t.

After a brief backward shift of her position squatted over Noat’s crotch and a dutiful descent of her lips down into contact with the semen-coated exterior of his cockroot, she messily slurped the cocksludge her canal had parted with into her mouth, and subsequently stood upwards out of her squat entirely. Believing herself without a moment to spare, she replaced her panties position atop her cunt with her right pincer amidst a waddle back to left side of her bed, the planted the sex greased bloat of her rear directly atop it.

On contact, the level of exertion she had endured through siphoning semen from Noat’s cock drew her upper body into a helpless teeter that suggested an immediate collapse back into contact with the mattress behind her. Simultaneously, the sound of footsteps directly behind the door to her bedroom pushed her focus away from keeping herself upright and onto postulation as to the individual she believed responsible for them.

Before she could fall, the compression of a tiny hand against her lower back sustained just enough of her weight to keep her upright. Right as the door to her bedroom began to slide open, a clothed and upright Noat planted himself to her right and covertly pressed his left hand up into contact with her back.

Through this, the appearance of the man responsible for the noise that she had perceived from behind her bedroom door found the two of them positioned to present as though the stench of sex hanging within the air was something else entirely.

All they needed to do to sell this as a fact was smile, and act.

“Well, well, looks like you two made up just fine. And here I was worried that you would end up apologizing each other to death.” Unzano chuckled, jovially. “Oh, jeez—I guess you were more of a mess than I thought, huh Izelia? You just get some rest, alright? I’ll make sure Noat gets home nice and safe.”

Behind this utterance, the massive Buzzswole beckoned to Noat with his dominant hand.

“C’mon, kiddo. Let’s let Ms. Smiley over here get some proper sleep, alright?”

Without reason (or leeway) to refuse, Noat hopped from off of the edge of Izelia’s bed the moment he was prompted to.

However, he did not do so under duress. Prior to standing, he slipped his palm into a firm encapsulation of a handful of Izelia’s assfat, and soon afterwards bent his eyes into a short glance towards her crotch.

After laying eyes on the portly blurt of semen that burst from the fringes of her panties, departing from the bedroom became effortless for him…

As much so as Izelia’s physically-degenerative infidelity.


End file.
